


magic, madness, heaven, sin

by jessalae



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Beast (The Magicians), Bickering, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Cock & Ball Torture, Don't Try This At Home, Eliot Waugh's Canonically Huge Dick, Endgame Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex? Or More Like Annoyance Sex, Impact Play, Intercrural Sex, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Obedience, Oral Sex, Painplay, Pining, Quentin Coldwater's Canonical Oral Fixation, Riding Crops, Rope Bondage, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Magic, Silence Kink, Spanking, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessalae/pseuds/jessalae
Summary: "All right, Coldwater," Penny said, and began lazily flipping back to the page Quentin needed. As fun as this game was, he didn't exactly want to spend the whole fucking day with the guy either, and he did have a conscience. Just not enough of one to keep him from drawing this out another minute or two. "What's in it for me?"Quentin sighed, exasperation radiating off of him. "God, fine, I'll suck your dick."
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh, William "Penny" Adiyodi/Quentin Coldwater, William "Penny" Adiyodi/Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 73
Kudos: 178





	1. cherry lips, crystal skies

**Author's Note:**

> Set in season 1 in a no-beast AU. Depicts BDSM practices that are not safe and/or sane (but are consensual). Don't tie yourselves up with magic if you don't know the counterspell off the top of your head, kiddos.
> 
> Title and lyric excerpts from "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift.

It wasn't that Penny wasn't _trying_ to keep his wards up. It just took a lot of fucking effort to hold them all the time. None of these so-called professors had been able to explain to him how to make it easy, yet, they just kept saying shit about _meditation_ and _practice makes progress_ and handing him even more fucking books to read, on top of his normal homework. So sometimes he just had to take a minute, drop the wards, and relax. Or try to, anway.

He guessed that he had about a week of patience left before either something clicked, and he learned how to keep them up without having to concentrate -- or before he just straight up murdered Coldwater. He planned to tell Coldwater that, as soon as he found the fucking nerd and got him to stop mentally screaming fucking Blank Space.

_YOU CAN TELL ME WHEN IT’S OVER, IF THE HIGH WAS WORTH THE PAIN. GOT A LONG LIST OF EX-LOVERS..._

Quentin wasn't in the library. He wasn't anywhere visible on the lawn or any of the benches. Penny sighed heavily, glaring around one last time, and headed off towards the fucking Physical Kids Cottage. It was all the way at the fucking edge of campus, right now, someone moved it during a party last weekend.

_’CAUSE WE’RE YOUNG AND WE’RE RECKLESS, WE’LL TAKE THIS WAY TOO FAR..._

His psychic powers didn't really give him a lot of location information, but the screaming did get a little bit stronger as he walked up to the Cottage. Thankfully the door was a normal door today, no bullshit. Penny walked in without knocking, and once he was past the Cottage's layers of wards, the shrieking got even louder. Penny winced, holding a hand to his ear. Like _that_ would fucking help.

_BOYS ONLY WANT LOVE IF IT’S TORTURE..._

"For fuck's sake, Coldwater," he yelled as he stomped up the stairs. "What have I fucking _told_ you about--"

"--Taylor. Swift." he finished, trailing off, as he slammed Quentin's door open and saw-- Jesus fucking Christ.

Quentin was facing towards the door, lying in bed. Kind of. He was definitely _in bed_ , on his stomach. But could you really call it 'lying' when his whole body was pulled tense, wrists and ankles all tied together behind his back in a position that could not possibly be comfortable? There was a gag in his mouth, too, a shiny black sphere held in place with black leather straps. He looked at Penny with a sullen, exasperated expression. Like he was _annoyed with Penny_ for having _taken so fucking long_ to find him.

Penny was caught between laughing hysterically and backing away slowly. He thought about pulling out his phone to take a few pictures, have himself some absolutely A+ blackmail material, then remembered they didn't have fucking phones at this ridiculous school. Finally he stepped into Quentin's room, shaking his head slowly and closing the door behind him.

"I know you assholes love pranking each other," he told Quentin, who had mercifully stopped his off-key mental karaoke when Penny arrived. "But this is a bit much. You're gonna have to do some real bad shit to whoever did this to you."

He approached Quentin carefully, reached for the buckle on the gag. Fuck, even his _hair_ was tied up, pulled back in a ponytail with a slim rope attaching it to the intricate bundle of knots joining his limbs. And he was definitely naked, too. Penny averted his eyes politely, looking down at Quentin's angry expression instead of his actually surprisingly nice ass.

He got the buckle undone, finally, and Quentin made a relieved noise as the gag came away. He worked his jaw, licked his lips to break the lines of drool that stretched between his mouth and the rubber ball. Penny put the thing down on the bed in front of him, gingerly.

"Thanks," Quentin said, not sounding all that thankful, honestly. "There's a book on the floor, over, uh, no, the other side. Yeah. It's page-- fuck. I think 98? If you can just--"

Penny looked at the book, bound in deep red leather. " _Word as Bondage_? The fuck is this?"

"It's the spellbook that got me into this mess, so if you'd just open it to the right page and hold it in front of me, I can find the incantation and get myself out of it."

Penny flipped through the book. "This is a whole book of sex magic, Coldwater." He turned a page and raised his eyebrows at the illustrations. " _Kinky_ sex magic."

Quentin looked up at Penny, his jaw set. "I'm aware of that," he said.

"This is some intense shit," Penny said, shaking his head as he paged through a chapter on spells targeting people's nipples. "I'm not a snitch, but whoever put this spell on you should maybe, like, get in some actual trouble. Doing this kind of thing without someone's consent is not fucking cool."

"That's not what happened," Quentin snapped. "Page 98? Please?"

"Yeah, gimme a sec," Penny said. He'd found a spell on micro-scale temperature manipulation that actually looked pretty interesting, and was trying to decipher the Greek. "So who was it? Eliot? Margo? This seems like shit they'd know how to do."

"It wasn't anyone, I was just messing around." Quentin rocked fitfully from side to side, grunting in annoyance. "I'm going to start singing out loud _and_ in my head if you don't get me that fucking counterspell."

"I don't think you're really in any position to threaten me," Penny said, and then Coldwater's previous statement sunk in fully and he looked up from the book. "Wait, you were messing around?" He glanced up and down Quentin's body, taking in the layers of knots, the intricate twists of rope over Quentin's limbs and torso. "You did this to _yourself_?"

"Page. Ninety. Eight. Please," Quentin said between gritted teeth.

"Okay, okay, damn," Penny said, flipping back to the right page. "Hecate's Hogtie." He let out a low whistle, turning the book sideways to get a better look at the diagram. "This is-- damn, Coldwater. I would never have guessed you had it in you."

"Penny!"

"Okay, counterspell-- oh look, a warning note. 'Always practice safe, sane, and consensual spellwork,'" Penny read out in a pointed voice. "'Keep a cutting charm prepared when playing with rope.' Smart. Did you not read that part?"

"Would you stop being a dick for two seconds and actually help me? Jesus," Quentin snapped.

"You know what, I think I won't." Penny grinned widely at Quentin's furious glare. "I think I'm gonna read this fascinating book I found for a little while." He paged further through the book, past the sensation play chapter, into a section about enchantments for adjusting the pain level caused by whips and floggers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Quentin muttered, then: "Help!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Someone! Is anyone home?"

"Didn't see anyone when I came in," Penny said helpfully.

"Seriously, Penny, _please_ ," Quentin said. Penny glanced over at him, all worried brown eyes and permanent frown. "I have shit I need to do today, I can't just stay like this forever."

"All right, Coldwater," Penny said, and began lazily flipping back to the page Quentin needed. As fun as this game was, he didn't exactly want to spend the whole fucking day with the guy either, and he did have a conscience. Just not enough of one to keep him from drawing this out another minute or two. "What's in it for me?"

Quentin sighed, exasperation radiating off of him. "God, fine, I'll suck your dick."

Penny nearly dropped the book. "Jesus, Coldwater," he said. "That is _not_ what I fucking meant."

"No? Because you're looking through that book pretty fucking intently," Quentin said. "And I'm kind of eye-level, here, I can _tell_ that you're like. Into this."

"Jesus," Penny said again. He glanced down his own body and saw-- nothing, the front of his jeans was perfectly flat, there's no way anyone could tell his dick was definitely starting to get interested in the scene in front of him. He looked at Quentin. The fucking nerd had a satisfied smirk a mile wide.

"Yeah, you fucking wish," Penny muttered. He flipped furiously through the book, back towards Quentin's stupid fucking counterspell. " _Messing around_ my ass, you probably did this shit on purpose so you could lure someone in here and get them to take advantage of you. Who was it supposed to be? Eliot? You know you could just like, ask him to fuck you, right? He'd have his dick out before you even finished your sentence."

Quentin blanched. "That's not--" He bit back whatever the rest of that sentence was going to be. "That's none of your fucking business."

"Isn't it? I'm in your bedroom with you tied up and naked, pretty sure that gives me a pass to comment on your sex life," Penny said, arriving back at page 98. He balanced the book on the corner of the bed and raised his hands into the right position to start the counterspell. "Or whatever pathetic fantasies you call a sex life, anyway. I bet you give terrible head. Probably choking and crying all over the place."

"I give excellent head," Quentin said, jaw clenched, apparently unwilling to stop arguing even when Penny was just a few tuts away from very kindly getting him out of this mess he created himself.

Penny snorted. "Sure. And I'm a mermaid."

"I for sure wouldn't choke on _your_ dick," Quentin muttered.

Penny froze halfway through the spell. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Quentin glowered at him. "Nothing."

"No, really, what does that mean?" Penny asked again. He unwound the first few steps of the spell, letting the magic dissipate, and squatted down so he was eye to eye with Quentin. "I want to hear it."

Quentin rolled his eyes. "Your whole _attitude_ is clearly compensating for something."

Penny raised his eyebrows. "Is it," he said. He flipped the book closed with one finger. It fell to the floor, and he didn't move to pick it up. Quentin groaned in frustration. "I think I might just leave you here," he said. "Put my wards up. Go take a nap. Hell, I could lock your door on my way out. See if Eliot can unlock it and come rescue you before your hands go numb."

"Penny," Quentin said, sounding slightly panicked as Penny stood. "No, Penny, wait-- look, fuck, I just. Please?"

A weird thrill ran through Penny, as he looked down at Quentin's face, nervous all of a sudden instead of ornery. "Nah," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "You fucked up. You don't get to insult me and then ask me for help."

"Penny, _please,_ wait--"

"Sorry, your Taylor Swift isn't getting through this time," Penny said, turning on his heel and reaching for the doorknob.

His fingers had just brushed it when he froze in place as an image came crashing through his wards, vivid and desperate-feeling: _Quentin's mouth, his lips parted, tongue sneaking out to wet them, then reaching forward to lap at the head of Penny's cock--_

Penny staggered and whirled back to face Quentin, who was breathing hard, looking intently at Penny. "What the fuck?"

"I won't be sending Taylor Swift this time," Quentin said savagely. "I'll be a little more fucking distracting than that."

Penny stared down at him, baffled. As he watched, Quentin closed his eyes, screwed up his face, and--

_Quentin's tongue dragging up the length of Penny's cock, the heat of his breath on sensitive skin, a moan deep in his throat--_

"Jesus," Penny said. His voice was unsteady, and his dick was now _very_ interested in both the scene in front of him and the scene in his head. He swallowed hard, tried to calm down his breathing.

"I'll do it if you want," Quentin said. "That's fine, just, _please_ untie me. I can't be stuck here like this."

Penny looked down at him: his whole face pleading, ropes digging into his skin, fingers flexing helplessly where they were tied behind his back. It was-- pretty fucking hot, actually. He'd clearly underestimated Coldwater in a big way.

"I'm not going to ask you for that," he said, trying to sound like that choice was obvious and not at all difficult. "I'm not _that_ much of an asshole." He picked up the book, found the page with the counterspell, and started it again. This time Quentin stayed miraculously quiet for the thirty fucking seconds it took to cast, and as Penny finished the last tut, the knots holding him in place unraveled themselves with a slithering sound. Quentin groaned, relieved, and collapsed face-down on his bed, his arms and legs and neck finally able to relax.

"You're welcome," Penny said. "Next time maybe try reading the fucking safety notes. You owe me." He turned to go.

"Wait," Quentin said behind him, his voice muffled by his duvet. Penny looked back over his shoulder. Quentin pushed himself up onto his elbows, groaning again as he rolled his shoulders. "I really don't want to owe you."

"Shouldn't have been a fucking dumbass, then."

"Can I, um," Quentin said. "I really will suck your dick. If that'll make us even."

"What _is_ it with you?" Penny asked. "What's your game here?"

"No game," Quentin said, shaking his head. "I just." He huffed out a sigh. "I mean, I really can tell you're. Um. This time. And that's my fault, so. And then we won't. We'll be even."

Penny shifted his weight to his other foot, hoping that might make the bulge in his jeans less obvious. It didn't, but it did drag the fabric over his erection, forcing him to bite back a hiss. "I said I'm not that kind of asshole," he said. "I don't make people suck my dick who don't want to."

"Um." Quentin visibly swallowed. Penny watched his adam's apple dip and rise in the column of his throat. "I kind of-- do. Now. I mean, if you want. I'm-- I'm offering. Of my own free will, and all that."

Penny was at a loss for words. He'd stormed in here ready to strangle this guy, they'd had their usual back and forth sniping at each other, and now he wanted to suck Penny's dick? What the fuck was happening? He looked at Quentin again, rope still loosely coiled around his body, pink stripes where it had been digging in a moment ago. Hair hanging loose around his face, now. And-- how was it fucking fair that this fucking nerd had such a nice ass?

 _He said he gives excellent head,_ part of Penny's mind reminded him. _Don't you want to know if that's true or not?_

Quentin huffed again, and stared down at his duvet. "Look, you can go, I-- thank you, I mean. Thanks. And I would really-- like to. I like it, it's been a while but I. I mean, this whole thing is to, it gets me. Um." He was blushing, now, a flush creeping over his cheeks and down the part of his chest that Penny could see. He took in a deep breath, and blurted out the rest of his sentence in one rush: "Getting tied up turns me on, so now I'm kind of horny, and you clearly like what you see here, so I just thought I'd offer. Or we can forget this ever happened, and I can just, owe you a favor. But like a normal favor, not like. Anything sexual? Unless--"

"God, do you at least shut up when you have a dick in your mouth?" Penny interrupted.

Quentin looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. "Try it and see," he said.

"Fuck," Penny grumbled to himself, and went for his fly.

Quentin _perked up_ in a ridiculous way, his eyes widening, his hands coming under his chest to push himself further up. "Okay," he said under his breath, like he was giving himself a fucking pep talk. "Here we go."

Penny rolled his eyes. "I still think you're going to be bad at this," he said.

"Then you can tell everyone you know I suck at sucking cock," Quentin said, and the way he said it, not stammering, the words just rolling off his tongue, made Penny's fingers slip a little on his zipper. "Although then you have to admit you let me suck it, so, maybe a little embarrassing for both of us at the same time."

"I can also tell them I found you fucking trussed up like a turkey because you were too scared to just ask Eliot to help you with your little bondage game, you had to do it yourself," Penny pointed out.

Quentin glared, his pout returning. Then Penny finally finished undoing his fly and shoved his jeans and boxers down, letting his dick bob free, and Quentin's gaze zeroed in on it. "Mutually assured destruction," he said, sounding distracted. "Now we both know something possibly embarrassing about the other."

Penny wrapped a hand around his dick, giving it a couple of strokes to get himself fully hard. For sure wouldn't choke on it, _ha_. He was a perfectly reasonable size.

Quentin watched his motions intently, that little furrow appearing between his eyebrows like it always did when he was focusing on a spell. Or having a conversation. Or-- most of the time, actually. But this time he wasn't trying and failing to demonstrate something in class, he was watching Penny's fingers slide over his dick, shifting up higher onto his elbows and forward on the bed. _Licking his fucking lips._

Penny stepped right up to the end of the bed and let go of his dick, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, Coldwater." he said. "Let's see what you've got."

Quentin looked up at him with just his eyes, then grinned and then opened his mouth, letting his tongue curl out and lap at the head of Penny's cock, just like in the thought he'd hit Penny with a few minutes ago. He did it again, and again, chasing Penny's dick as it swayed almost out of his reach, getting the head nice and wet, teasing at the slit.

Penny grabbed a handful of his own shirt in each hand and held on tight.

Right when Penny was about to get fucking impatient, Quentin decided he'd had enough of just licking the head of Penny's cock and wrapped his mouth around it, sucking lightly and sliding his tongue along the ridge of the head. Penny stifled a groan. Quentin looked up at him again, this time with his pretty pink lips covering Penny's cock. Then he carefully shifted his weight and reached a hand forward, grasping the base of Penny's dick, so he could hold it still.

Penny had been determined to stay quiet, but as Quentin leaned forward, sliding Penny's cock into his mouth inch by inch, letting his tongue press along the vein on the underside, that didn't seem like it was going to happen. "Fuck," he said between gritted teeth, as Quentin started stroking with his hand in time with the motion of his mouth.

Quentin made a humming noise in the back of his throat, sending vibrations through his lips and over Penny's spit-slick cock. Penny shuddered. He tried not to rock forward -- again, _not that kind of asshole_ , he wasn't going to just fuck someone's face without permission. Even if that someone _had_ implied that Penny's dick wasn't big enough to make him choke.

Quentin stopped sucking and pulled off with a wet noise. "Don't lock your knees," he told Penny.

"I fucking know that," Penny said, coincidentally remembering at that moment to bend his legs a little.

Quentin gave him a _look_ , then rolled his eyes a little. "You can move, if you want," he said. "Just a little. I can handle it."

"If you say so," Penny said. His skeptical tone was kind of ruined by the way he shuddered as Quentin swallowed his cock down again.

He was-- good at this, okay? _Excellent_ might be a stretch, but certainly exceeding expectations. The bar had been low, but. Penny watched Quentin's mouth slide over his dick, his lips wet and full and dark pink. He experimented with shifting his hips forward a little on Quentin's in-stroke, going a little deeper. Quentin took it like a fucking pro, letting Penny nudge the head of his cock into the tight heat at the back of his mouth. He didn't even seem to notice.

" _Fuck,_ Coldwater," Penny said, impressed despite himself. "You're not fucking bad."

Quentin made another humming noise, and this time the vibrations went straight to the head of Penny's dick, nestled in the opening of Quentin's throat. "Fuck," Penny said again. Quentin's fingers tightened around the base of his cock, thumb dropping down to stroke lightly over Penny's balls, still in time with the rest of everything he was doing. The guy could multitask, at least, that was a bonus.

Penny got into the rhythm of it, easing just a little forward as Quentin took him in deep, relaxing back as Quentin's tongue slid down his length, curled around the head of his dick inside the wet heat of Quentin's mouth. Quentin's breath blew hot over the base of Penny's cock, timed perfectly with every stroke. And as Penny felt the tension building in his balls, in the pit of his stomach, Quentin seemed to sense it, and started sucking just a little bit faster, then a little bit faster again.

Penny was _really_ into it, thrusting maybe a little harder than he would have normally if he were trying to be polite, when Quentin abruptly pulled off. His hand kept moving, stroking Penny's cock in the same tempo he'd been sucking, but Penny still swore and his hips jolted forward, searching for that warmth and suction again.

"Pull my hair," Quentin gasped, looking up at him. His mouth was swollen and red, and his face was flushed to match.

"What?" Penny asked, trying to make his brain understand words when all he wanted was to be fucking Quentin's face again.

"Pull it," Quentin said again. He reached up with his free hand and tugged at Penny's wrist until Penny's hands uncurled from where they had been clenched in his t-shirt.

"Really?"

"You know the kind of shit I like, now," Quentin said, sounding annoyed. "Are you really surprised?"

"You fucking asked for it," Penny said. He slid his fingers into Quentin's hair, one hand on either side of his head, and tightened his grip, getting two fistfuls of hair. Quentin made a noise like-- like he was enjoying this just as much as Penny was, maybe. Penny didn't really have time to think about that, though, because Quentin immediately dived forward again onto his dick, sucking him down and settling seamlessly back into the rhythm his hand had maintained this whole time.

With his hands fisted in Quentin's hair, it was just too tempting to really fuck Quentin's face -- and Quentin didn't seem to mind. It seemed like he _liked_ it. He was keeping time with his hand on Penny's dick and with his other hand massaging Penny's balls, making pleased noises every time Penny thrust into his mouth, felt the clench of the opening of Quentin's throat vibrate around the head of his dick. He was kind of propped up on his elbows, still, but mostly Penny was holding him up by his hair, and that _had_ to hurt. But Quentin was looking up at Penny and somehow even with his mouth stuffed full of cock, even with his eyes watering, something about his face clearly said, _Give it to me, Adiyodi, is that the best you can do?_.

Penny could feel the heat and tension curled tightly in the pit of his stomach, now, almost ready to tighten down to nothing and explode outwards. "You gonna swallow for me?" he managed, somehow, between strokes. Quentin made a noise that sounded more or less affirmative. "Fucking get ready, then," Penny said, and those were the last words he managed to form. He held Quentin's hair so tight he thought strands might come out in his fucking fingers, thrust deep into Quentin's waiting mouth, let Quentin work him with his tongue and his hands until he finally made a cut-off noise and came down Quentin's throat.

Quentin stayed perfectly still, letting Penny sit deep in the back of his throat until Penny had shuddered through the end of his orgasm. Penny slowly released Quentin's hair, stepped back to draw out of his mouth. Quentin didn't even gasp for air. He just breathed in deeply, closed his lips, swallowed down the saliva and come pooling over his tongue.

Penny was speechless, honestly. Quentin looked up at him, swollen wet lips, red cheeks, hair a complete fucking mess. Then he smirked at Penny, and Penny remembered how fucking annoying this guy could be.

"Like I said," Quentin said hoarsely. "I give excellent head."

"Excellent's generous," Penny said, lying through his teeth. "You're better than I thought you would be, though."

"And I didn't choke," Quentin said. Penny glared at him, and he smiled back triumphantly.

Penny tucked his wet dick back into his boxers, started pulling up his jeans. "You're gonna be talking funny for a couple days, though," he pointed out.

Quentin shrugged. "The book's got a healing charm for sore throats," he said.

"Considerate." Penny looked at the book, lying innocently on the floor where he'd left it, then let his gaze drift back over Quentin's body, still stretched out on his stomach on the bed. “So I know the goal here was for us to be even, but I feel like I'd be that much of an asshole if I didn't at least offer to get you off. If you're hard."

"No," Quentin said, and-- did he blush a little deeper? "No, I'm. I'm good. No thanks."

Penny eyed him suspiciously. "You sure? You seemed like you really fucking liked that."

"Yeah, um, I'm not really. I don't need. I can handle it myself." Quentin was definitely blushing, now, stammering.

Penny looked a little closer at the duvet under Quentin's body. It was a light gray -- except, he realized suddenly, under Quentin's hips. Where there was a patch of darker gray. That was spreading. "Jesus, Coldwater," he said, delighted. "Did you fucking come just from sucking my dick?"

Quentin went fully red up to his hairline. "Not _just_ from that," he muttered. "I also, I mean, I was moving. Kind of."

"You humped the fucking bed until you came with my cock in your mouth, is what you're telling me," Penny said. He laughed, thrilled. A fucking great blowjob _and_ a chance to laugh at Quentin? This was turning out way better than he could have hoped.

"Sure, whatever," Quentin said irritably. "Now can you get out of my fucking room and let me clean up?"

"You realize what this means, right?" Penny asked, taking his sweet time doing up his fly. "It means we're not _quite_ even."

"What? No it doesn't."

"You were gonna even things out by sucking me off." Penny stretched up towards the ceiling lazily, letting his post-orgasm calm show fully in his satisfied smile. “But if you got off too, that’s like. It was as much for you as it was for me.”

“No,” Quentin said, clearly trying to sound firm but ending up somewhere between whining and panicked. “We’re even. This is it. We’re square.” He shoved himself up, twisting around to sit on his knees. Penny looked down at Quentin’s dick, unable to help himself. Again, how was it fucking fair that this asshole had such a nice body? “This is not happening again.”

Penny frowned at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you think I was angling for? In your dreams, Coldwater. I’m just gonna make you do my homework or something.”

He turned to go for what, the fifth time? And this time Quentin let him get all the way to the door. Penny stopped with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at him: fucking pouty face, come drying on his stomach, an angry flush turning his cheeks pink again.

“Besides,” Penny said, unable to resist one last parting shot. “If this was gonna happen again, it would be my turn to pick a page in that book. And I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

He stepped out of Quentin’s room, headed down the stairs. Eliot was on his way up, and gave Penny a confused look as they passed on the landing.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Penny told him cryptically.

He was fucking three steps away from the Cottage when it started up again, not as loud as before, but just as irritating:

_cherry lips, crystal skies, I can show you incredible things…_

Penny ground his teeth. “Fucking hell, Coldwater,” he muttered. “I am going to make you regret this. You don’t know what you just got yourself into.”


	2. and you love the game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look, you caught me. I was trying to steal your book of sex spells. You gonna tie me up and spank me with all those nice paddles you keep hidden under the bed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this chapter: breaking & entering, snooping in someone's stuff, under-negotiated (but consensual and mutually enjoyed) kink, name-calling.
> 
> Thank you so much to Sylph for betaing and to crushinator for helping brainstorm spell names!

When Kady came over that evening, Penny had a way better answer than usual to “Done anything interesting today?” Obviously he was going to tell her about Quentin blowing him no matter what — they always told each other if they hooked up with someone new. It was just good manners to keep your partners informed when you were doing the not-exclusive thing. Again, not _that_ kind of asshole.

And on top of that, he definitely wanted to see her face when he told her _why_ that blowjob had happened, because _that_ was new fucking information for both of them.

“Damn!” she said delightedly. “ _Damn_! Are you serious? I would _not_ have expected that.”

“It’s always the quiet ones, right?” Penny said. “And he fucking knew what he was doing, too, with the ropes and everything. That spell looked complicated as hell.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of that book,” Kady said. “It’s good shit. Hella expensive. I wonder where Coldwater got it.”

Penny shrugged. “Wouldn't it be in the library somewhere?”

“Not likely,” Kady said with a snort. “They keep all the really fun shit locked up where we can’t get it. Professors and thesis research only. And it didn’t have the library stamp on it, right?”

“I didn’t exactly look at the cover that closely,” Penny said. “I was a little distracted by the contents. And the naked guy on the bed offering to suck my dick.”

“Fair,” Kady said. She drummed her nails against Penny’s chest. “How would you feel about stealing it?”

“Love to,” Penny said. “Just for us, or…?”

“Just for us, probably,” she said. “Although it’d be great to have copies of some of those spells. Sell them individually, get the hedge market stirred up a bit.” She smiled slyly at him. “Plus we can ransom it back to Coldwater when we’re done with it, get you another _excellent_ blowjob.”

“No way,” Penny said. “He liked sucking my dick way too much. I wouldn’t want him to think he could make a habit of it.”

“Mm, wouldn’t you, though?” Kady asked. “You just spent like ten minutes telling me how good he is with his mouth.” 

“Poetic license,” Penny said. Now that she’d brought it up, though... he didn’t actually hate the idea. Weird.

“Sure,” Kady said, grinning. “Whatever you say.” She leaned in close, draping her body over Penny’s, captured his mouth in a lazy kiss, and then Penny didn’t think about Coldwater for the rest of the night.

* * *

Penny was _not_ having a good day — he’d woken up with a pounding headache, which was totally fucking up his Traveling control, which made morning classes a goddamn nightmare. And so when Kady sidled up to him and told him this afternoon was the best chance to grab the book they were probably going to get, he groaned.

“Pop a fucking aspirin, dude,” she said, rolling her eyes. “A little bird told me that Coldwater’s got a study date with Julia for some test in their Herbalism class, so he should be out of his room for a couple hours. Plenty of time to figure out where he’s got it stashed.”

“What if he carries it around with him at all times, never lets it out of his sight?”

“And risk someone going into his bag and finding out his sexy secret?” Kady grinned. “Come on. Do you want a bunch of kinky spells to use on me or not?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Penny said. 

The Physical Kids Cottage seemed more or less deserted. Penny casually wandered around to the corner of the building where Quentin’s room was located, sent his senses out briefly to make sure nobody was too nearby — nope, the coast was clear — and took a deep breath, readying himself to Travel into Quentin’s room.

Nothing happened.

“Are you fucking—” Penny grumbled to himself. The aspirin had cleared up his headache, but apparently his Traveling abilities were still taking the fucking day off. Why even _have_ magic if it was gonna crap out on you at the worst moments?

He slipped quietly into the Cottage and headed up the stairs to Quentin’s room, tried the door handle gingerly. The lock on his door was annoyingly good. Penny looked around the second floor, listening carefully, then lowered his wards just a bit to try and sense who all might be around. Someone was up in the attic room, probably Eliot, but their wards were too good for him to tell. Someone else was in the room down the hall, but their thoughts came in the gentle waves that usually meant deep sleep. Probably nobody would hear him. So Penny braced himself, took a couple steps back, and shouldered his way through the door, splintering the shitty old door frame as he busted through the lock.

He shut the broken door gently behind him and glanced around. As expected, Quentin didn’t keep his big ol' book of kinky sex magic out in plain sight on his desk or bookshelf. Penny dropped to his knees to look under the bed, the next logical place to keep it.

“Huh,” he said softly to himself, dragging the big black storage case out from under the bed. “What kinda goodies you got in here, Coldwater?” He unlatched the case, flipped the lid open. “Oh, _shit_ ,” he said.

The book was in there, settled off to one side, next to a couple other books ( _Two Knotty Boys Showing You The Ropes_ , _Anal Pleasure and Health_ , _The New Bottoming Book_ — God, that one had _post it notes_ in it, what a fucking nerd). The rest of the case was filled, like, _filled_ , with sex toys. Coils of rope. A set of leather handcuffs linked with a silver chain. A riding crop. Several paddles arranged in decreasing order of size. A fucking _massive_ dildo, Jesus, there was no fucking way a short guy like Quentin could fit that _anywhere_. A couple more reasonable-sized dildos, including one shaped like… a dragon? A sleek black case that, when Penny opened it, contained a set of three shining metal butt plugs sitting on a bed of crushed velvet. No fewer than four different kinds of lube.

“You kinky son of a bitch,” Penny muttered absently, picking up one of the metal plugs, testing the weight of it in his hand. It had some serious heft to it, that must feel fucking _great_. He poked through a pile of blindfolds and found several sets of nipple clamps hidden underneath.

As tempted as Penny was to liberate a few things and take them back to test out with Kady, it was maybe a little over the line to use someone else’s sex toys without permission. Plus they probably had like. Quentin cooties. Maybe using them would turn Penny into a stammering tornado of anxiety. So once he’d seen everything there was to see — maybe taking a little longer than he really should have, maybe thinking a little harder than he’d like to admit about how Quentin might use some of this equipment — he picked up the book, closed the case, and slid it back under the bed.

He checked the cover this time, since Kady had mentioned it: no sign of the Brakebills library seal on the spine. Quentin must have gotten his hands on this one himself. And now Penny and Kady had their hands on it. Finders keepers, sucker.

Penny couldn’t resist opening the book, just briefly, letting it fall open at a random page just to see. _Edge of Madness,_ he read. _Level: Advanced. This spell will significantly arouse the target but prevent them from achieving orgasm until the caster speaks a predetermined trigger word. Warning: do not use in play sessions lasting more than four hours. If the caster becomes incapacitated, the curse can be broken using a General Undoing of sufficient power—_

“What the _fuck_ , Penny?”

Penny turned on his heel, closing the book quietly in the same motion and holding it casually down at his side, a little behind his body. “Oh, good, I was just looking for you,” he lied.

Quentin was frowning furiously, poking at the broken door frame. “So you broke into my fucking room?” he asked. “Why— you remember you can _Travel_ , right? You _broke_ my _door_?”

“I’m not wasting my energy on getting into your stupid bedroom,” Penny said. Quentin didn’t need to fucking know that his Traveling control had decided to fuck off for a while. “I was gonna fix it.”

“Don’t bother,” Quentin muttered, still staring at the door. He set down his messenger bag and made a few smooth gestures. The wood and metal knitted themselves seamlessly back together, a few splintered bits rising up from the carpet to rejoin the frame.

Penny raised his eyebrows. “Damn,” he said. “You’re good at that.”

“What are you doing here?” Quentin asked, glaring at Penny.

“Well if that’s how you’re gonna be about it,” Penny said, “I’ll leave. Jesus.” He walked past Quentin, checking him with his shoulder a little bit to knock him off-balance and distract from the book Penny was still carrying in his opposite hand.

He was about half a step out the door when Quentin grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt. “What—” Penny tried to turn quickly, but Quentin had already grabbed the book and yanked it back towards him. Penny kept his grip on it, barely, and for a moment they were playing the world’s dumbest game of tug-of-war.

“I don’t fucking think so,” Quentin said, sharply. “That’s _mine_.”

“I know,” Penny said. “I just needed to borrow it.”

“Borrow it?” Quentin got both hands on the book and stepped backwards, using his whole body weight to pull it out of Penny’s grasp. “Steal it, maybe. Seriously, you couldn’t just _ask_ , like a fucking _normal human_?”

“Would you have given it to me if I had?” Penny crossed his arms over his chest.

“Probably not,” Quentin said. “Because you might not _give it back_.” He smoothed a hand over the cover of the book protectively, then looked over at his bed. “Wait— this was in—” He rounded on Penny, his cheeks flushing. “You went through my whole— my—”

“Yeah, I saw your toy box,” Penny said casually. “Seriously nice collection. Like I said the other day, I didn’t know you had it in you. Or, I guess, I didn’t know _what_ you’d had in you?” He frowned to himself. That joke wasn’t quite right, but he didn’t really have time to workshop it with Quentin staring at him, open-mouthed and fuming. “What?” he asked, letting his voice carry a little further. “Look, you caught me. I was trying to steal your book of sex spells. You gonna tie me up and spank me with all those nice paddles you keep hidden under the bed?”

Quentin started and looked with alarm at the still-open door. “Could you—” He shoved past Penny, slammed the door closed. “Could you shut the fuck up, please?”

“What?” Penny asked, grinning. “Scared your housemates might find out you like it a little rough? I’m sure they can hear you in here, whatever you get up to. The walls aren’t exactly soundproofed.”

“I have wards, the door just has to be closed—” Quentin started to say, then shook his head hard. “Why the fuck did I shut the door with you in here?” he muttered to himself.

“Maybe you want me to stay,” Penny offered — just to see the color keep rising in Quentin’s cheeks, obviously.

“You’d love that,” Quentin snapped. “Do you _actually_ want me to tie you up and spank you? Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t think you really swing that way, judging by what I saw in your little goody box,” Penny said casually. It was fun as hell to watch Coldwater fume, see the death grip he had on the book and his other hand clenched into a fist. As if he’d actually do anything to Penny. As if he _could_. “Pretty sure that’s the collection of someone who likes getting his ass beat, not the other way around.”

“Like you’d know anything about that,” Quentin said. He sat down heavily on his bed, still holding the book protectively.

“I might,” Penny said. “I’ve been around the block enough. Put some fucking brats like you in their place a couple times.”

“I am not a _brat_ ,” Quentin spat. Penny just looked at him. Quentin snorted. “Fine,” he said. “But you haven’t fucking _seen_ bratty.” He glared at Penny. “You couldn’t handle me.”

“Couldn’t I?” Penny heard himself ask. 

The air in the room felt heavy, suddenly. Somewhere in the last few minutes — maybe when Penny opened Quentin’s toy box and got an extremely good idea of what the guy was really into; maybe when Quentin shut the door with him still in the room; maybe just now, when Quentin basically fucking _dared_ Penny to show Quentin his stuff — something had changed, here. Penny’s goal had gone from ‘steal the book’ to ‘fuck with Coldwater’ to… just fuck Coldwater? No ‘with’? Maybe?

Quentin stared at him for a long, long, moment, his frown more calculating than usual. “This is such a fucking bad idea,” he muttered, almost under his breath.

“Yeah?” Penny asked. He took a step towards Quentin, tucking his thumbs casually into his pockets. “One of your fancy instruction books tell you that? Or are you just chicken?”

Something seemed to snap in Quentin’s expression, in his posture. He sat up a little straighter, his face smoothing out, moving from anger to a kind of skeptical sneer. He opened the book with a sharp motion, flipped pages until he found something, and held it out to Penny. “I’m not chicken,” he said. “Are you?”

Penny snatched the book from his hand. For a second, he debated trying to Travel his way out of the Cottage with it, doing what he initially came here for — but Quentin’s obstinate stare made him really, _really_ want to top all the sass out of this fucking brat. He looked down at the spell.

_Arta Ascultării. Level: Beginner. A simple but deceptively intense obedience spell, perfect for building trust with a new play partner. The caster determines a word the target must say, and until that word is said, the caster will not be able to move more than arm’s length away from the target without experiencing significant discomfort. Although this spell involves a trigger word that will end the spell, we still recommend establishing a safeward during casting, so that the caster can release themselves and their partner from the spell when needed._

“Hate to break it to you,” Penny said, “but there’s a typo in your fancy sex magic book.”

“What?” Quentin asked, concerned, standing up to look at the page. Penny pointed to where it said _safeward_. “Oh, no, that’s right,” Quentin said. “It’s like, a little clause you put in a spell, where if anyone says the trigger word the spell will end immediately. Apparently the non-magical kink community actually borrowed the concept, but they don’t have wards, so. Word made more sense.”

“Huh,” Penny said, staring at him. What a fucking nerd. Although him being a nerd about this _specific_ topic was weirdly kinda hot. Penny didn’t know if he would have thought that before Coldwater sucked his dick like a fucking pornstar, but hey, here they were. “So, what, I put this spell on you, and then I just have to make you say the word?”

“Or you’ll be in pain whenever you get more than arm’s length away from me,” Quentin said, nodding.

“Seems easy enough.” Penny shrugged, scanned down the page to the casting instructions. “What do you want me to do to make you say it? Hit you? Use some of those toys you’ve got hidden under the bed?”

“Whatever you think can make me break,” Quentin said casually. “I’m not going to break, but. You can do your best.”

A thrill ran down Penny’s spine, his natural response to a challenge like that. “I will,” he said. “And you’ll break for me.”

The spell was straightforward enough, just a series of pretty basic tuts done in unison along with the incantation, and then another sequence to tell the magic who was the caster and who was the target. It felt like a warm breeze as it settled over them, making the hair on the back of Penny’s neck stand on end. 

He took a couple steps back from Quentin, just to see, and gritted his teeth to avoid grunting as his skin prickled and stung. One more step, and it was like he had a terrible flu, all his muscles aching and his blood pounding feverishly under his skin. Quentin looked at him the whole time, intent, clearly trying to see if Penny was going to crack from the pain of the spell.

Penny forced himself to shrug casually and walk slowly, not lunge, back towards Quentin. The pain faded steadily as soon as he was back within arm’s reach. Now he _really_ wanted to break Quentin. As if just wanting to wipe the smirk off the guy’s face, and maybe get some head in the process, hadn’t been incentive enough to get this done.

“It worked,” he told Quentin. “Strip down to your underwear. I’m going to get into that toy chest of yours.”

He hefted it up onto the bed as Quentin shed his sweatshirt, then undid his pants, hopping on one foot a little to get them all the way off. “What’s the word I have to get you to say, again?” Penny asked nonchalantly as he picked up the biggest paddle in the box, then set it back down and picked up the riding crop.

Quentin snorted. “I’m a lot of things, Penny, but I’m not fucking stupid,” he said. “You’re not going to just _trick_ me into saying it.”

“Worth a shot,” Penny said. “Okay, hands on the desk.” He gave the crop a few experimental swipes through the air. It was nice, springy and a decent weight. He put it back in the box for later. 

His skin prickled unpleasantly, so Quentin must have gotten into position, over near his desk by the window. Penny turned to find Quentin sitting on top of his desk, hands gripping the edge, feet swinging above the floor. 

“What?” Quentin asked innocently when Penny rolled his eyes. “I’m following instructions.”

Penny took a step forward to make the pain go away, then sighed loudly, looking Quentin up and down. There was clearly no justice in the universe, if this fucking asshole nerd got such a nice body. He was definitely the type who lived on Mountain Dew and Doritos, but his stomach was still toned, his thighs strong, his shoulders broad. Messing him up hadn’t been on Penny’s agenda today, but now Penny was very much looking forward to it.

“Thought you said you weren’t fucking stupid,” he said. He crossed the room in a couple of strides, getting right up close with Quentin, and grabbed a fistful of Quentin’s hair, squeezing hard. “You know what the fuck I meant.”

Quentin rolled his eyes, but Penny didn’t miss the little gasp he let out, the renewed flush of color in his cheeks. “Fine,” he grumbled, and pushed himself forward. His entire body grazed down the front of Penny’s as his feet landed lightly on the carpet, caught between Penny and the desk. “Um, move?”

“Nah,” Penny said, letting go of Quentin’s hair but staying planted where he was.

Quentin glared at him, and squirmed around until he was facing away from Penny. His ass pressed right against Penny’s crotch. He arched his back and looked back over his shoulder, sassy. “Better?”

Penny shrugged. He ran a hand down Quentin’s spine, stopped to slip just his thumbnail under the waistband of Quentin’s boxer-briefs, tracing a line across the small of Quentin’s back.

“Like what you see?” Quentin asked.

“It’s not bad,” Penny said. He grabbed a handful of Quentin’s ass over the top of his underwear. Fuck, it was nice. He squeezed hard enough that Quentin made a small, pained noise. “Seen better.”

“Yeah, you’ve _been around the block enough._ That’s what you said, right?” Quentin said. “Nice way of putting it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that it sounds a lot more sophisticated than _I’m a big fucking slut_.”

Penny stepped away from Quentin as abruptly as he could, trying to leave him off-balance, but Quentin just settled his feet a little bit wider and didn’t stumble. “You’re one to fucking talk,” Penny said as he pulled his arm back, lining up his swing.

“How would you— _know_ ,” Quentin said, choking on the last word as Penny’s hand landed on his ass with a smack. It was a test stroke, really — the sound and force had been blunted by Quentin’s underwear, but it had landed nice and solid on the meat of Quentin’s ass cheek, right where Penny had wanted it.

“I’ve seen all your equipment, remember?” Penny squeezed Quentin’s ass, hard, right where he’d just hit him. “There’s like two grand worth of toys in that box. So either you’re secretly the heir to some kind of fucking sex toy fortune, or.” He hauled back and smacked Quentin’s other ass cheek. “You’re a big fucking slut.”

Quentin arched his back and fucking _wiggled his ass_. Jesus, Penny wanted to _destroy_ him. “Okay, so maybe I am,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

Penny yanked Quentin’s boxer briefs down in one motion, baring his ass. “You’re about to fucking find out.”

He laid into Quentin without holding back. The smack of his hand across Quentin’s skin was loud, and Penny briefly hoped that Quentin had been telling the truth about the sound-proofing wards, because there was absolutely no mistaking what was happening in here. Someone was getting spanked, and _hard_. And Quentin took it all, the muscles in his back and his ass twitching with every hit, his skin heating up and reddening under Penny’s hand.

It took a while for Penny to start hearing the noises Quentin was making. They must have started out too soft, too well-timed with the slap of Penny’s hand. But eventually, when Quentin’s pretty ass was bright red and Penny’s hand had started to sting, he heard it: a sharp intake of breath every time Penny’s hand left Quentin’s skin; a little moan, deep and desperate, every time it hit again.

Penny stepped back. “Back up,” he ordered. Quentin hesitated, then complied. “Keep your fucking hands on the desk,” Penny snapped. “Just back up with your feet. There you go,” he said, as Quentin scooted back towards him, having to bend over further to keep his hands in place. “Stop there.”

He stepped right up behind Quentin, grabbing Quentin’s hips, and rocked forward against him to slowly rub the fabric of his jeans over Quentin’s abused skin. Quentin hissed. “You ready to say our word yet?” Penny asked.

“Not even a little bit,” Quentin said.

Penny raked his fingernails over Quentin’s ass, watched as Quentin yelped and pushed back into the pain. “You really do fucking like this. Damn.” 

He was trying to stay in the character Coldwater expected him to be — just an asshole, in this for the fucking street cred or whatever. And he _had_ basically decided to do this on a dare, so, there was some of that in there for sure. But seeing Quentin’s reactions build like this, hearing his stifled moans, was hotter than it had any fucking right to be. His ass was undeniably great, round and red and hot under Penny’s hands. Penny _knew_ how great his mouth would be, whenever he got around to ordering Quentin to use it. And— Penny reached around and wrapped a hand around Quentin’s dick, which was just as hard as Penny had suspected it would be at this point, and the way he _jerked_ forward into Penny’s fist, gasping— 

Kady was never going to let him fucking live down how much this had ended up doing it for him. 

Quentin squirmed in his grip, grinding back against Penny’s rapidly growing erection, and Penny let go of him, not willing to let him have that victory. “What’s your favorite toy in the box?” he asked Quentin.

“Any of the impact ones,” Quentin said. His voice was rough.

“Fucking pain slut,” Penny muttered, then stepped all the way away. He walked over to the bed, steeling himself as a wave of pain washed over him. “Let’s see what we can add, here, since you’ve got so much to play with.” He picked up the riding crop again and considered the rest of the fucking buffet of sex toys before him.

He looked up: Quentin was peering over his shoulder watching him, hands still planted on the desk, knees bent just enough to keep him from collapsing, ass bright red and cock hard between his legs. Penny watched his reactions carefully, taking note of how Quentin’s face changed as Penny touched one toy, then another.

“Can you seriously take this monster?” Penny asked, holding up the enormous dildo.

Quentin’s mouth twitched, but he said, “It takes a lot of lube. And patience.”

“Ah, well.” Penny moved on. “I’m running low on patience today. I want you to say our fucking word. Remind me what it was?”

“No,” Quentin said smugly.

“Nah, that wasn’t it.” Penny opened the small black box with the metal plugs, chose the largest one and a bottle of lube to go with it. “You can say that all you want. It won’t make me stop.”

Penny came up behind Quentin again, just in time — the pain had been starting to get pretty serious. Quentin was still looking over his shoulder at him, and he smirked when Penny stepped back within the spell’s range. “Bet you never thought you’d be _relieved_ to be near me,” he said.

Penny grabbed him by the back of the neck, this time. “Down on your elbows,” he said. Quentin pushed back, resisting, so Penny reached around with his other hand and pinched one of Quentin’s nipples viciously.

“ _Ow,_ ” Quentin said, sounding genuinely annoyed.

“That wasn’t the word either,” Penny said. He shoved on Quentin’s neck again, and Quentin finally dropped to his elbows. The new angle stretched his ass in a different way, and he hissed again.

Penny gave him a couple of smacks on each cheek to warm him back up, then lubed up the plug and pressed it right against Quentin’s asshole. He didn’t bother holding the metal against his skin first to warm it up, and Quentin jumped.

“Keep those elbows down,” Penny ordered. “If you don’t want this, all you gotta do is say our word, and we’re done. Otherwise it’s going in your ass.”

“If I’m such a big fucking slut, wouldn’t I want that?” Quentin asked. His voice was tight, strained, and he was holding himself so still he was practically vibrating with effort.

“Good point,” Penny said, and shoved the plug in.

Quentin _shouted_ , his legs quivering. Penny held the plug in place for a few seconds, then let go, letting the weight of it settle into Quentin’s ass.

“Hold still,” Penny said, and then he picked up the riding crop and laid into Quentin again.

There was nothing soft or well-timed about the noises Quentin was making now. He shook and yelped with every stroke. Patches of brighter red bloomed against the dark pink of his skin everywhere the crop made contact with his ass. After a minute, Penny switched it up, landing a few good strokes across the backs of Quentin’s thighs.

Penny stepped in close again, pressed the base of his palm between Quentin’s ass cheeks, putting pressure on the plug. Quentin gasped.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Penny said. “You’ve been pretty hard to break so far.” He circled a finger around the rim of Quentin’s hole, rubbing where the metal of the plug touched his skin. “But that’s _probably_ because I’ve been giving you everything you fucking want. You have no reason to say the word if you’re perfectly happy with me whipping your ass raw.”

“Now you’re getting the idea,” Quentin said.

“So the obvious solution,” Penny said, ignoring that. “Is to take _away_ what you want. So.” He grabbed the base of the plug and started pulling it out of Quentin, as slowly as he could manage.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Quentin groaned. Penny stepped back a half-step, used one hand to spread Quentin’s cheeks so he could see as the thickest part of the plug stretched Quentin’s hole and then popped out. Penny left just the tip of the plug resting against Quentin’s asshole.

“Now,” Penny said, leaning down so he was talking right against the shell of Quentin’s ear. “If you’d like this in your ass again, you know what you have to say. Until then—” he rocked the plug against Quentin a little, letting the rounded tip drag across his hole. “I’m just gonna fucking wait for you to decide to stop being a brat.”

“Not gonna happen,” Quentin said. He was a little breathless, though. “I hope you like it here, because you’re sleeping at the foot of my fucking bed tonight.”

Penny reached down and pinched Quentin’s ass, hard, and Quentin yelped. Then he slid his hand around and found Quentin’s dick again, wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed.

“Mm,” Quentin said, trying to fuck forward into Penny’s hand. Penny let go of his dick and pinched his raw ass again. “ _Fuck_ , ow,” Quentin said.

“Don’t fucking move,” Penny said. “You get _exactly_ as much as I give you. Try to take any more and it’s going to fucking hurt.” He grabbed Quentin’s dick again, nudged the plug against his asshole.

“Fuck you,” Quentin spat.

“Now that you would _definitely_ like too much,” Penny said, laughing. “I’m a fucking realist. I can’t break you on my dick if you can take that fucking horse cock in your box.” He pushed on the plug, carefully letting it ease into Quentin almost all the way to the widest point, then drawing it out again before it could settle satisfyingly into place.

“I’d still take it,” Quentin said, a little strangled. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“But you’re not exactly begging, yet, are you?” Penny stroked slowly down the length of Quentin’s cock, squeezing hard enough that the friction was probably almost painful, and stopped with his palm cupped around the head.

“Is that what you want?” Quentin asked. “Me on my fucking knees, begging for your dick?”

That was a fucking intense mental image, but: “I think I’ve been pretty fucking clear that what I _want_ is for you to _say our word_.” Quentin tried to shift his weight forward, and Penny let go of his cock and pinched his ass again in the same spot as the previous two times, grinning when Quentin swore at him. “You’re going to end up with a serious bruise there if you keep fucking up.”

“This can’t be doing it for you, can it?” Quentin said. “Just like, staying here _not_ doing anything to me? You can’t be enjoying this.”

Penny wouldn’t have thought so either, but now — Quentin was starting to shake with the effort of holding himself still. His elbows were red where they were pressed against the top of his desk, and his cock was twitching in Penny’s hand, leaking precome across his fingers. Penny’s heart was pounding, his cock was half-hard, and he felt a little dizzy with how much _power_ he had here, the power to make Quentin listen and obey (if not shut the fuck up).

“Honestly?” he said. He rubbed two fingers over the head of Quentin’s cock, making Quentin gasp and try to thrust into his hand, earning himself another hard pinch. Then Penny brought his precome-wet fingers up to Quentin’s face, slid them over Quentin’s cheek and hooked them into Quentin’s mouth. “It’s real fucking satisfying, not giving you what you want.”

Quentin moaned around his fingers, swirled his tongue around them. Penny pressed the plug harder against his asshole, still not quite letting it slip inside.

“You can have this,” he said softly, against Quentin’s ear. “You can have the plug, you can have my dick in your mouth, I can make you come, I can spank you more. You can have whatever you want. All you have to do…” he trailed off. “Well, you know what you have to do. You said it, you’re not fucking stupid.”

“Mmf,” Quentin said around Penny’s fingers, and Penny pulled them out of Quentin’s mouth, wiped them clean on Quentin’s cheek. “God you’re annoying,” Quentin said, breathy. “Fuck. Antarctica.”

Penny pressed the plug home, and Quentin yelled, his head falling forward as he shoved his hips back. “There you go,” Penny said, feeling a rush of warm breeze as the spell on them ended. “Was that so fucking hard?”

“Just make me fucking come already,” Quentin said. “ _Fuck_ —” Penny had grabbed his dick again, stroking in earnest, other hand nudging the base of the plug so it would rock inside Quentin. “Jesus, fuck—” Quentin let out a wordless noise, and Penny felt him shudder, felt come spurting across his fingers.

“That was fast,” Penny said, with Quentin still twitching under him. “You really do get off on pain, huh?”

“I really do,” Quentin sighed. He pushed himself up to standing, making Penny step back. “I know it’s weird, you don’t have to say it.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Penny said. He walked over to the toy box — carefully, but the pain was gone — and started digging through the corner with various bottles. “You have aloe in here? Or arnica gel?”

Quentin eyed him curiously. “Green bottle,” he said. “Arnica plus a couple of painkilling spells. What are you doing?”

“Aftercare,” Penny said. “Ever heard of it? Get on the bed.” He found the bottle Quentin was talking about and moved the toy box onto the floor to make room.

“I can do that,” Quentin said awkwardly, but he moved toward the bed anyway, wincing as he straightened all the way up and took a step. “I usually— I mean, I guess usually I’m by myself, but—”

“Pretty sure I worked you over harder than you could have by yourself,” Penny said. 

“This— isn’t what I was expecting,” Quentin said, settling himself carefully on the bed. Penny rubbed some of the ointment between his hands, then smoothed them gently over Quentin’s thoroughly beat up ass. Quentin flinched, then relaxed a bit as the gel spread across his skin.

“No?”

“No.” Quentin sighed as Penny added more ointment. The redness was starting to fade a bit, leaving just the bruises behind, turning from dark red to purple. “I mean, I was half expecting you to just fuck me and then safeword out and walk out of here.”

“Seriously?” Penny said, offended. “How many times do I have to say, _not that much of an asshole_?” Quentin shrugged under him. “Besides, it was just as much fun getting you to break.”

Quentin craned his neck over his shoulder to look skeptically at Penny. “You didn’t get me to break.”

Penny looked back just as skeptically. “You said the fucking word.”

“I _chose_ to say the word.”

“Which is breaking.”

“No, that’s— look,” Quentin said. “Whatever. You didn’t get me to break. Just. Objectively, that did not happen. But I think you could,” he said, talking over Penny’s objections. “And that’s. Not easy, actually. Like, nobody’s ever done it their first time.”

Penny stared at him. “How many fucking people have you done this with, Coldwater?”

Quentin shrugged, then rolled over oh so gingerly, wincing as his ass hit the sheets. “Lost count. I, uh. I got pretty into the kink scene in college. I don’t really do, like, _relationships_ , I’m a fucking mess whenever I try, but. I can sub.” He shrugged. “And it’s what I like, anyway. It’s like, I can get everything out of it that I’d want out of a vanilla relationship, only I actually fucking understand the rules and what happens if I mess up.”

“Jesus,” Penny said. “That’s. You are _fucked up_ , Coldwater.”

“Definitely,” Quentin said cheerfully. “Now do you want me to suck your dick again, or not?”

One excellent blowjob later, Penny groaned and pushed himself up off the bed where he had collapsed, boneless, when he came. “Benefits to you being a slut,” he told Quentin as he pulled his jeans back on. “You’re pretty fucking good at that.”

“I’m _excellent_ ,” Quentin said. “Hey. Um.”

Penny turned to look at him. He looked weirdly nervous, fidgeting with a corner of the sheets.

“Did you want to like. Borrow the book, maybe?” Quentin said. “As long as you don’t mess it up. I paid a lot of fucking money for it.”

“In exchange for what?” Penny asked, suspicious.

Quentin’s mouth twitched into a weird half-smile. “There are a lot more spells in there that— like, they’re designed for two people. I can’t. I want to try them, and I can’t by myself. And I feel like, you and I— this kind of works? This specific kind of thing? Like. I barely even like you, as a human, but maybe that makes it better? For you to dom for me? If you want to.”

Penny looked at him: nervous frown, red marks on his hips and thighs, lips still bruised and swollen from Penny fucking his face a minute ago.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “We can talk about that.”

Quentin smiled at him — like _actually_ smiled. It was weird, honestly. “This weekend? Maybe?”

“Sure,” Penny said, still not entirely sure what he was agreeing to. But Quentin reached over onto his desk and grabbed the book, then tossed it to Penny.

“It better not have fucking come on it when you bring it back,” he said.

“Just because you asked so nicely, Coldwater,” Penny said, “it definitely will.”


	3. make all the tables turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You didn’t actually answer my question, though,” Quentin said. “You’re cool with the basics, but what do you _like_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I've updated the tags on this fic to better reflect the endgame ship(s). I probably should have done that from the beginning, since if I continued, this was always where I was gonna end up -- I really apologize if anyone is disappointed or feels bait-and-switched. This chapter is still all Penntin all the time, but starting to transition elsewhere.
> 
> Thank you as always to Sylph for the excellent betaing, and to crushinator et al for help with spell name brainstorming!

  


* * *

  


_This book contains spells meant to be used in consensual encounters between two or more adults. Before performing any of these spells, it is crucial to communicate with your partner(s) clearly and openly. Discuss what you are interested in trying, what limits you have, and what safety precautions you will take. If you are a newcomer to the wonderful world of kink, you can find a checklist to help guide this conversation in the appendix at the end of this book._

  


* * *

  


“So what’s on the table, here?” Penny asked. He picked a single blade of grass, twirled it between his fingers. “Blowjobs, obviously. Handjobs. Fucking?”

“Sure,” Quentin said. “Really, like— I’m open to pretty much anything that doesn’t do lasting damage.” Penny stared at him, so he continued: “Like, bruises are fine, but no drawing blood, no cracked ribs, no not using lube where it’s needed, nothing like that.”

“Jesus, Coldwater, what kind of fucked up shit do you think I’m into?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t that the point of this conversation?” Quentin leaned back, letting the spring breeze blow through his loose hair. “What do you like?”

Penny instinctively wanted to brush the question off — that wasn’t information Coldwater needed to have. But he stopped and reminded himself that actually, it really was. If they were doing this. Which they were, they were sitting here on a picnic blanket on the Sea on a Saturday afternoon because they were doing this. “I’m mostly a top, obviously,” he said. “I can switch it up sometimes, but only for the right person. I’m cool with bondage, getting rough, causing pain. Pushing people to see how far they can go.”

“So, your basic tough guy dom, then,” Quentin said, smirking. “I can work with that.”

“You know you don’t have to act like a brat _all_ the time, right?” Penny asked. “We’re just talking.”

He was a little surprised when Quentin grimaced and said, “Sorry. Kind of a habit with you, I guess.”

“Fair enough,” Penny said warily.

“You didn’t actually answer my question, though,” Quentin said. “You’re cool with the basics, but what do you _like_?”

Penny looked up at the bright blue sky above him, peering past the faint silver lattice of the soundproofing ward they’d put up to make sure this conversation stayed private. “I’m big on like, leather. Lingerie, getting my partner all dressed up for me. Being watched, or like, doing stuff in public. And like I said, pushing people. Seeing how far I can take it before they tap out.”

“Do you like it when they push back?” Quentin asked.

“If I didn’t, we definitely wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Penny said.

  


* * *

  


_La Main Électrique. Level: Beginner. A basic sensation play spell. When first cast, it will make skin-to-skin touch with the caster painful to the target. The pain will not cause any physical harm, and will increase as the pressure and duration of the touch increases. The caster can use a simple tut to reverse the effect of the spell, making their touch pleasurable to the target, with the same stipulations. This reversal can be repeated as many times as the caster wishes. This spell is particularly useful when playing without access to the equipment one might normally use to create sensation._

  


* * *

  


Penny reached out and brushed his fingers over Quentin’s bare chest. Quentin sat up a little straighter, and his jaw tightened. “Did that hurt?” Penny asked.

“Just a little,” Quentin said. “Kinda like. Scratching with fingernails?”

“Uh-huh. And then if I do this—” Penny did the tut that changed the sensation from pain to pleasure, a quick twist of the wrist with his third and fourth fingers bent just so. He reached forward again and cupped Quentin’s cheek in one hand.

Quentin jumped, sucking in a sharp breath. Penny kept his hand where it was. Quentin’s mouth fell open, and he leaned into Penny’s touch.

“Fuck,” he said, breathy. “That’s like—”

Penny took his hand away, stepped back. Quentin, to his credit, didn’t try and follow the sensation, didn’t whine or pout. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and looked at Penny evenly.

“Interesting,” Penny said, a grin spreading over his face. “Lie down.”

Quentin lay back, then scooted over when Penny stretched out next to him. “Aren’t you going to get undressed too?” he asked.

“No,” Penny said simply, and ran his hand down Quentin’s chest and stomach, open-palmed, just to see. Quentin shuddered under his touch. “My touch is the best tool I have to control you, right now.” He drew a wide circle around one of Quentin’s nipples with one fingertip, watching Quentin pant as he spiraled closer and closer inward until he could press his finger onto the tight pink nub, hold it in place, make Quentin arch up into the sensation. “I’m not gonna risk giving you more than I want you to have.”

Quentin clearly neither wanted nor was really listening to his explanation, already squirming so hard the bedspread was getting twisted around. Penny could _see_ his cock actively filling against his stomach, the head getting dark and swollen and a bead of precome collecting at the slit. Penny grinned to himself and twisted his wrist to change the spell to pain.

Quentin shouted and squirmed harder, if anything. Penny gave him a momentary break just to move his finger to Quentin’s other nipple.

“This is going to be the easiest scene I’ve ever done,” Penny said. “I _literally_ barely have to lift a finger and you’re already falling the fuck apart.”

Of course _that_ was the comment that made it through Quentin’s haze of pain and subspace, and he stopped squirming, held himself very still. “Just trying to be encouraging,” he said. “It’s not _that_ good.”

“Fucking liar,” Penny said. He took his hand off Quentin, let it float down his body without touching his skin and stopped right over Quentin’s still very hard cock. Quentin, if possible, held himself even more still. “Oh, did that scare you?” Penny asked. “Not in the mood for me to test how much you _actually_ get off on pain?” He lowered his hand a fraction of an inch — Quentin must have been able to feel the heat radiating from his palm.

“I mean, it’s pain without damage,” Quentin said, his voice tight, staring down his own body at Penny’s hand. The bead of precome at the head of his cock succumbed to the pull of gravity and dripped down slowly onto his stomach. “It wouldn’t actually _hurt_ me.”

“That’s what the spell said,” Penny said.

“Then fucking do it,” Quentin said.

Penny wrapped his hand lightly around the shaft of Quentin’s dick, staying away from the head for now, and laughed as Quentin let out a torrent of swearing, muscles tensing frantically. He stayed hard, though, surprisingly. Penny stroked him, just barely. “Does it still feel like scratching?” he asked.

“Fuck, fuck, I don’t, fuck, I don’t know, shit, ow—” Quentin said. Penny lifted his hand away, and Quentin’s whole body collapsed back into the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. “Jesus. Fuck.”

“I think this is it,” Penny said. “This is the spell that’s gonna let me break you.”

Quentin snorted. “You just keep on thinking that,” he said.

Oh, now it was fucking _on_. “I think I will,” Penny said, repositioned himself on the bed, then leaned over and swallowed Quentin’s cock down in one smooth motion. Quentin’s shocked yelp was music to his fucking ears. Penny sucked steadily, doing everything he knew made it good, knowing that on top of the natural pleasure of his tongue curling against the underside of Quentin’s cock, the spell would make the same touch _hurt_.

After a moment, he let Quentin’s dick fall out of his mouth and watched his muscles all relax at once. Quentin’s chest was heaving, his hands in tight fists in the bedspread.

“Okay,” he said. “You might. You might be right.” He smiled at the ceiling, cheeks dimpling. “Fuck.”

“Atta boy,” Penny said, and bent his head down again.

  


* * *

  


_Hotten’s Chiding Crop. Level: Intermediate. After casting, whenever the caster performs the trigger tut, the target will experience a brief, intense flare of pain. Ideal for reminding a wayward or bratty sub who’s in charge. For serious painplay aficionados, see the “Modifications and Adaptations” section on the next page for a version that will make the pain gradually increase each time it is triggered._

  


* * *

  


They had a bunch of classes together, which, up until now, had been kinda annoying. Quentin was _such_ a fucking teacher’s pet, always raising his hand with just one more question even when Sunderland was clearly about to let them out fifteen minutes early and everyone else was halfway out of their seats in anticipation. Yeah, they were good questions, but still. Read the room, dick.

Now being in class with him was better in some ways, worse in others. Better, in that Penny had seen firsthand how Quentin’s constant nerding out was actually improving his casting. He could parse the trickier formulas in the spellbook way faster than Penny could, even if he did still need Penny’s help smoothing out a sequence of tuts sometimes. And Penny now found the sound of Quentin’s voice, his uncertain stammering, way less irritating than before. He was used to it. He even maybe kind of liked the guy.

Worse, in that Quentin’s wards were still absolute shit, and Penny had become a recurring character in his daydreaming. Someone with bad wards thinking about you was like hearing your name from across the room at a crowded party: it somehow drew your attention no matter how loud the rest of the noise was. So now Penny was sitting in a lecture on Cooperative Casting with his dick halfway hard while Coldwater sat two rows over and mentally reviewed their scene from the previous night, where they’d tried out a gag reflex suppression spell that — honestly, it was barely necessary, the way Quentin liked it rough. But Quentin had wanted to try it, and Penny couldn’t argue with the results.

And then somehow, despite spending most of the hour daydreaming about impressively _not_ gagging on Penny’s cock, Quentin fucking _still_ managed to raise his hand with a question with two minutes left in class. The guy was unbelievable. 

On the bright side, Quentin had said he wanted to try out a new painplay spell — and now Penny had plenty of shit to punish him for.

  


* * *

  


_Sacher-Masoch’s Labial Metronome. Level: Beginner. The target of this spell must kiss the caster once every sixty seconds. If they do not, they will experience a harmless but unpleasant burning sensation on their lips, which will increase in intensity the longer the healing kiss is withheld. The fifth tut in the sequence can be modified to change the time interval as desired._

  


* * *

  


“Do you guys kiss?” Kady asked.

“In scenes, yeah,” Penny said. “We did this one spell, he had to earn a kiss every minute or the spell would make it hurt.” He smiled to himself a little, remembering. That had been a good time, he’d have to suggest they do that again. “But other than that— not really. He’s not really, like, into _relationships_.”

“You don’t have to be in a _relationship_ to kiss someone. Julia and I made out all the time when we were hooking up, and that was never anything official.”

“I dunno,” Penny said. “He’s a good kisser — I mean, anything with his mouth, he fucking loves it — but we don’t really have a making out vibe. He’s more about just straight-up sex, no emotions.”

“Like he’s what, aromantic? Or whatever?”

Penny snorted. “Definitely not,” he said. “He has it fucking _bad_ for Eliot. He just doesn’t want to go there, for some reason. Rather get beat up and fucked by me than admit he’s got the tiniest fucking feeling.” He shrugged and rolled towards her, folding her into his arms. “Works for me, though. He’s damn fun to fuck.”

“He must be,” Kady said. She arched her back, stretching. Penny stared at the curve of her neck, spotting a patch of skin he’d really like to kiss softly. He blinked. “I don’t think you’ve hooked up with anyone but me or him in like. Weeks, right?”

“I wasn’t hooking up that much before then,” Penny said. He gave in to temptation and leaned in, kissing that spot on Kady’s neck.

“Mm,” she hummed happily. “Yeah, but you were, a little. You’re not going to go exclusive with him, are you?”

“God no,” Penny said, his head jerking up. Sure, he was maybe almost starting to like Coldwater, but not like _that_. And going exclusive with him would mean giving up Kady, which was not gonna fucking happen. 

“Good,” Kady said. She smiled up at him, just a second too late to disguise how serious she’d sounded as she said it. “Glad I have some qualities that still make me more attractive than Quentin fucking Coldwater.”

“A fucking infinite number,” Penny said, and kissed her hard before she could catch him being serious too.

  


* * *

  


_Safety Note: the following spells include both a verbal safeward and a non-verbal safeward in their casting instructions. Make sure the target of the spell has at least one hand free to use the non-verbal safeward at all times, as their ability to trigger the verbal safeward may be impaired._

  


* * *

  


Penny brushed Quentin’s hair carefully away from his face, tucking it behind his ears. Quentin glared furiously up at him. “What?” Penny asked innocently. “Something you wanted?”

Quentin twisted up his face, clearly chewing on his tongue in frustration. Then the spell finally released its hold on him, and he gasped, able to make noise again. “You fucking _know_ ,” he started, and the spell clamped down again immediately, silencing him. He threw his head back, letting out what was clearly a soundless, frustrated moan.

Penny laughed softly. He trailed his hand down Quentin’s body, tracing over the ropes that held Quentin’s legs in the air, knees bent and spread wide, his ass open and aching from where Penny had been slowly fingering him for— he’d lost track of time, honestly. “You are so fucking bad at this,” he said. “Did you lose every game of Simon Says you ever played as a kid? It’s the same thing.” He slid two fingers back into Quentin, just to see him shake and soundlessly moan. “A little higher stakes, maybe.”

Quentin’s ability to make noise returned again. “Please sir,” he bit out, finally satisfying the conditions of the spell. “You fucking _know_ what I want.”

“Ask for it,” Penny said.

Quentin strained against the ropes and clenched around Penny’s fingers. “Please sir,” he said again. “Fucking fuck me already, god, you fucking dick.”

Penny slid into him, sinking balls-deep in one smooth motion, and Quentin shouted, bucking up under him. “You really missed the point of this spell,” Penny said, struggling to keep his voice even as Quentin’s fucking _excellent_ ass squeezed around him. “It’s called _Permission to Speak_ , not _say the word and then cuss your dom out as much as you want._ ”

“Deeper, fuck,” Quentin started, ignoring him, and the spell cut him off again. Penny watched, captivated, as his face shifted from anguish back to blinding pleasure as Penny fucked into him hard, angled his hips to work Quentin’s prostate.

Quentin’s ability to make noise returned again mid-moan, Penny drilling into him at the bruising pace they both preferred. “Please sir,” he gasped. “Harder, fuck me, please sir, Jesus, fuck, I’m close, please sir please—”

“Finally,” Penny growled, grinning broadly. “A little fucking respect.”

  


* * *

  


_Midori’s Partial Body-Bind. Level: Beginner. If your scene requires a partner to maintain a certain position without the use of physical restraints, this spell will hold the specified subset of the target’s limbs immobile in the position they are in when casting is completed. Note that you will have to release the spell and begin again if you need to change positioning. Good communication and strong cooperative casting can help avoid unnecessary delays in getting your scene started._

  


* * *

  


It really wasn’t awkward at all, weirdly. Penny had expected someone to get weird about it, since Brakebills was a fucking tiny school where everyone had some kind of history with everyone else. But Kady was obviously fine with it. Julia didn’t seem to have any problem with Penny monopolizing her best friend’s time. (Penny happened to know that whenever he was in Quentin’s room, Julia was in Alice’s, so it’s not like she was sitting around twiddling her thumbs while they messed around. Twiddling something, maybe, but not her thumbs.) Pretty much nobody else in the Cottage gave a shit how often Penny came or went or what happened while he was there. And Quentin was absolutely chill about the whole thing. It was like he drew a bright line in his mind between _this is my normal life_ and _this is my sex life_ , and since they weren’t _dating_ or anything, none of his bumbling from his normal life transferred over into their sex life.

And then, of course, Eliot decided to make it awkward, stepping out of the kitchen as Penny jogged down the stairs one evening. “Penny,” he said, in that smooth baritone that could be either seductive or threatening — if you were someone inclined to be either seduced or threatened by him. “A moment.”

Penny nodded at him. He did actually have to get back to his room and do some fucking homework at some point. He’d spent a truly ridiculous amount of time today lazing around on Quentin’s bed, hands behind his head and a massive grin on his face, as Quentin rode him and struggled against the magic binding his arms to his sides and alternated between begging Penny to touch his dick and calling Penny a fucking asshole for making him do all the fucking work. But another minute wasn’t gonna hurt. “What’s up?”

Eliot leaned a little closer in, his voice slipping down a few notes further. “Tell me the truth. Are you and Quentin an item?”

Penny carefully kept his face neutral, although inside he was cackling. Fucking _told you so_ , Coldwater. “Something like that,” he said.

Eliot visibly swallowed. “How—,” he started, then stopped, raising one finger to keep Penny from responding while he rethought his question. “What is— the nature of your relationship?”

“We—” Penny started, then paused. He wasn’t actually sure how Quentin would want him to answer this question. Eliot was one of the guy’s closest friends, and if Quentin hadn’t told him anything yet, Penny wasn’t gonna blow his cover and make things weird for them. “I think you’d better ask him.”

“Maybe I will,” Eliot said. A blip of emotion slipped through his truly astoundingly good wards, clearly conveying _No, no, god no, I couldn’t stand it if—_. Penny’s mouth twitched towards a smile, and Eliot looked at him levelly, his wards snapping back into place. “Well, whatever relationship you two have,” he said, his voice getting deliberately lighter, like they were discussing the weather, “please do know that if you hurt him, I _will_ make sure you regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

Told you so times a fucking million. Penny met his gaze. “Noted,” he said. 

Eliot nodded and stepped aside, letting Penny pass.

Penny stepped out of the cottage, then turned and said to Eliot’s retreating back, “One thing I can tell you, though.”

Eliot whirled back around.

“We’re not exclusive,” Penny said. “In case that’s relevant information.”

“Noted,” Eliot said, in exactly the same tone of voice that Penny had said it in a moment ago.

Penny smirked at him and Traveled away.

  


* * *

  


_Intimate Expansion Level Four. Level: Advanced. IMPORTANT: reverse this spell within two hours of casting to avoid possible incontinence or other medical complications. When cast on any body cavity, this spell will increase the ability of said cavity to flex and expand tenfold, enabling large items to be safely inserted without pain or damage._

  


* * *

  


“Jesus,” Penny said, staring at Quentin’s asshole, stretched and gaping. “You are fucking _wrecked_.”

“Mm,” Quentin said happily into his pile of pillows. “Good.”

Penny did a quick charm to wash the fucking gallon of lube they’d used off of his arm, Quentin’s ass, and the towel they’d put down to catch the overflow. Then he picked up the book and found the right spell to reverse the enchantment on Quentin’s ass. As he traced the last sigil at the base of Quentin’s spine with his finger, Quentin shuddered, and his hole tightened down to its normal post-sex state, pink and shivering. He patted Quentin on the small of his back. “You’re good. Turn over.”

Quentin did, settling on his back, eyes closed, a peaceful smile on his face. Penny rolled his eyes, but didn’t really mean it. Quentin was legitimately cute when he finally stopped fucking frowning. Penny stretched out next to him, grabbing a blanket from the floor next to the bed and tucking it over both of them.

“Good for you?” he asked, just to check.

“Uh, yeah,” Quentin said, half-laughing. “Real fucking good.” He cracked one eye open. “You?”

Penny nodded. “I’ve never had my entire forearm inside someone before. It’s… definitely an experience.”

“Mm,” Quentin said dreamily, closing his eyes again. Penny watched him. Quentin wasn’t the type to roll over and pass out after sex, but he did go a little fuzzy sometimes. Never to the point of not being able to talk — of course not, that would be too good to be true — but loose, like this.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Penny asked. “While you’re all blissed out like this?”

Quentin laughed for real this time. “Nothing,” he said. “That’s the point.”

“Get you out of your head.” Penny nodded to himself. “Makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“You’re kind of a mess, most of the time.” Penny expected Quentin to take offense at that, but relaxed like this, he just snorted and shrugged, his eyes still closed. “Actually, now that you mention it, when we’re doing this is the only time I don’t have to fight to keep your damn thoughts out of my head.”

“You’re welcome.” Quentin flipped onto his side, facing towards Penny, and curled up, pulling the blanket up to his chin. His eyes were still closed. He was quiet for a moment, and then added, “It’s like. It’s really good for me. I _am_ a mess most of the time. I can be less of a mess when I take my meds, or do my therapy exercises, and whatever. But to just, turn it all the way _off_ — I need that. And this is the only thing that gives it to me. So, uh. Thanks for putting up with me so I can have it.”

“It’s… not actually a problem,” Penny said. “No, seriously,” he continued when Quentin opened his eyes and looked at him skeptically. “I’m like, not a total asshole. I don’t want people going through shit they don’t have to. And if I can help…” he shrugged. “ _And_ , if I can help in a way that lets me get off in the process, why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Quentin said. He propped himself up on one elbow. “Speaking of. You should take the book, mark some pages. Things you want to try.”

Penny’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay,” he said. “Not gonna pass that up. Any particular reason?”

Quentin looked at him, big brown eyes considering. “Weirdly, I think I actually, like. Trust you. Kind of. As a person.”

“Coming from you,” Penny said. “I’ll take that as a fucking compliment.”

  


* * *

  


_Eulenspiegel‘s One-Way Mirror. Level: Intermediate. A unidirectional concealment spell. Those within the spell area will be able to see and hear their surroundings, but those outside will neither see nor hear what happens within. Please note that this version of the spell must be cast with fixed boundaries. For a concealment spell with variable or movable boundaries, v. Stanton’s Veil of Misdirection, pages 15-16._

  


* * *

  


“Okay,” Quentin said again under his breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Penny echoed. His hand tightened on Quentin’s shoulder. “You get too uncomfortable, just say it, I’ll Travel us away.”

Quentin’s face twisted nervously, looking over his shoulder at the rest of the library — quiet, at this hour, but far from deserted — then he nodded. “Got it,” he said. 

Penny stepped close to Quentin, looping his arms around Quentin’s shoulders, then lifted his hands and started moving through the motions of the spell. The air around them shimmered briefly, then cleared again, wrapping them in a bubble of illusion magic, defined by the barely-visible chalk line Penny had drawn across the carpet and up the walls around them. 

Penny wiped his hands on his jeans — his palms were sweating, for some reason. Or maybe he knew the reason, maybe it was because this was the first thing they’d tried that aligned way more with what Penny liked than what Quentin liked, and he didn’t want to fuck it up and hurt the guy. 

But Quentin had picked this out of his whole list of options, and this was definitely a top-five fantasy, so Penny wasn’t going to fucking say no. Not with Quentin staring up at him with some combination of nervous-excited-defiant in his eyes, a stubborn set to his mouth. “Nobody can see us now,” Penny said quietly, pitching his voice low. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you.”

Quentin sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. “What if someone needs to read about, uh—” He twisted to peer over Penny’s arm at the shelves. “Mesoamerican agricultural magic?”

“Pretty sure nobody’s gonna,” Penny said. “But yeah, they’d bump right into us. Probably disrupt the chalk, too, break the illusion, let everyone in the library see what we’re up to.” He palmed Quentin’s ass through his jeans. “So you’ll just have to be good and get me off quick, and hope nobody decides they need to know anything about growing maize before you finish.”

Quentin shoved his ass into Penny’s hands. “Piece of cake,” he said confidently.

“We’ll see,” Penny said. “Strip.”

Quentin went rigid in his arms. “What, like— all the way?”

“All the way,” Penny clarified. “You don’t need to give me a fucking lapdance while you do it or anything, but your clothes are coming _all_ the way off.” He squeezed Quentin’s ass again. “Like I said. I can do whatever the _fuck_ I want to you.” 

Penny could feel Quentin shudder against him. “Aren’t you just going to fuck me? Or like, have me blow you? Neither of those needs me to be naked in the middle of the fucking library.”

“True, but _I_ need you to be naked in the middle of the fucking library.” Penny grinned broadly at the way Quentin’s face was already red, the little spasms of disbelief and annoyance that kept spreading across it. He cupped the back of Quentin’s neck, letting his grip tighten gradually, so gradually, until Quentin started to lean back into it. “So are you going to listen to me? Or should we stand here a little longer, make it even more likely someone runs into us and everyone sees your dick?”

Quentin shuddered again, then finally brought his hands up to his sides, started lifting the hem of his long-sleeved t-shirt.

Penny watched him get naked, enjoying every time he jumped as someone walked by their alcove, the way his blush had spread all the way down his chest. Finally Quentin was fully naked, fidgeting with his fists clenched at his sides. Penny was pretty sure he was desperate to cover himself with his hands. His dick was already starting to fill, though, thickening up between his sturdy thighs.

“I think you’re gonna end up liking this just as much as I do,” Penny said. He gripped the back of Quentin’s neck again and palmed Quentin’s cock, running his fingertips over the sensitive head to really get things going. “We’ve already established you’re a big fucking slut. You’re gonna like getting off no matter where it happens.”

“Not if I can’t actually get off because we’re _in the damn library_ ,” Quentin said. He was pressing himself closer and closer to Penny, maybe trying to hide, maybe trying to get Penny to stroke his dick harder. Maybe a little of both.

Penny grinned at him. “Lucky for me, then, that I don’t _actually_ care if you get off here or back in your room later.” He took his hand off Quentin’s now nicely hard dick to open his own fly, pull his erection out through the slit in his boxers. “You do your job well enough, I might even let you do both.”

Quentin grabbed Penny’s dick, stroking quickly, making Penny’s toes curl in his shoes. A couple of second years walked by their alcove, deep in conversation, and Quentin flinched hard, shoved himself forward against Penny. “I’ll do it,” he whispered hurriedly. “I’ll do it, what do you want me to do?” Penny sighed, and Quentin moved his hand even faster. He leaned forward, mouthing at Penny’s neck, his collarbone. “Please, just tell me what you want—”

“Fuck,” Penny said, the sound coming from somewhere in the darkest depths of his soul. That was incredibly hot, having Quentin all desperate to please for a change. “Turn around.”

Quentin whimpered, his mouth leaving a red mark on Penny’s shoulder. He turned around slowly, fitfully, like every inch hurt. A few rows away from their hiding place, something made a _thump_ noise like someone had dropped a book. Quentin staggered back against Penny. The invisibility spell made the air in front of them shimmer just slightly, like heat waves over pavement, so they could both tell it was still working. But other than that, it _looked_ like anyone could fucking see them, see Quentin’s dick flushed and thick as Penny’s hand reached around to grab it.

Penny stopped for a moment, holding a flat palm over Quentin’s dick to cover it. “Check in. Okay?” he murmured against Quentin’s ear.

“Yeah,” Quentin said. He was breathing like he’d run a marathon. “Fuck, let’s just, please? Tell me what you want. Will you fuck me?” He shoved his hips back against Penny. “If you’re going to, just do it. Please. I want it?”

“Was that a question?” Penny asked, amused.

“I don’t _know_ ,” Quentin snapped, some of his usual brattiness returning to his tone. “I’m just trying to figure out how you want me to get you off so I can _do_ it, and you can stop _humiliating_ me.”

“How am I humiliating you?” Penny fisted Quentin’s dick, stroking slowly. Quentin’s body, already tense, tightened even further in his arms. “Far as I can tell, you’re feeling pretty good. Nobody can see us. All you have to do is be good, and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know _how_ ,” Quentin whined. “I don’t, you haven’t _told_ me how I can be good.” He fucking _writhed_ , sliding his whole body against Penny’s like he could just wiggle his way into making Penny come.

“You’re right,” Penny said soothingly. “I’ll tell you. Put your legs together. Tight.” Quentin obeyed immediately. Penny let go of his Quentin’s dick briefly to do a quick little lube spell, then slid his slicked-up hand into the tight space between Quentin’s thighs, coating his skin. Quentin gasped as Penny’s fingers stroked over his perineum, rubbed along his balls. “Now just hold like that.” Penny lined up his dick, sliding it into the hot, slick channel Quentin was creating for him.

“You just stay still for me,” Penny said. “That’s all I need you for. I’m gonna fuck your thighs until I come, and then you get what you want, okay?”

“Okay,” Quentin repeated. “Yes, please. Come on—”

“Hungry for it,” Penny chuckled, starting to thrust, making Quentin gasp. “You’re always so fucking hungry for my dick.” He kissed at the side of Quentin’s neck, bit down, stroked Quentin’s cock in time with his thrusts. “Such a good fucking sub.”

Penny was really expecting that after he came — soon, not fucking long now, this was _incredible_ — Quentin would immediately grab his clothes and ask to be Traveled somewhere private. He wasn’t expecting Quentin to gradually tense his legs even further, shift his hips so Penny’s dick would rub more firmly against his perineum — and come first, choking out a shocked moan and shaking and spilling all over the hand Penny frantically cupped over the head of his dick to keep it from getting on the library carpet.

“Jesus,” Penny gasped, his hips stilling. “Fuck. You okay?”

“Don’t _fucking_ stop,” Quentin said between gritted teeth, reaching back and digging his nails into Penny’s hip.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Penny said, and gave the man what he wanted.

  


* * *

  


_Bardot’s Allo-Erotic Asphyxiation. Level: Advanced. For best results and to avoid wasting expensive components, cast on a collar, rope, scarf, necklace, or other item that can be worn around the neck. When activated, the target’s breathing will be significantly restricted. The spell will monitor their oxygen intake and loosen as needed to keep them conscious. This creates a persistent sensation of not getting enough air while simultaneously being much safer than many mundane breathplay techniques._

  


* * *

  


Penny had to admit that, yeah, Physical Kids parties were the best on campus. They pulled in the best people from all the other disciplines, was the thing — that Nature guy with the really good weed, a little group of Illusionists who did some cool shit with lights and colors that was even cooler when you were wasted, Julia and her hot Knowledge friends, a pair of Healing students coming in clutch with the hangover preventatives. And Penny, the best of the Psychics, obviously.

Kady had gone to grab another drink, so Penny leaned himself against the back of one of the couches, still breathing a little hard from breaking it the fuck down on the dance floor a minute ago. The music thrummed through his chest, just the right side of almost too loud, the lights changing color as the mood of the song changed.

The cushions he was leaning on shifted, and he looked next to him to see Quentin, hair tied back in a bun, his eyes a little glazed from whatever he’d been drinking or smoking or who knows.

“Hey,” Quentin said.

“Hey yourself,” Penny said. “Woulda thought you’d be upstairs with your soundproofing turned all the way up.”

Quentin shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought. Trying something new couldn’t hurt.”

“Good for you,” Penny said. “Getting out of your comfort zone.”

“Yeah,” Quentin said. He gave Penny a little sidelong smile and raised his eyebrows. “I mean, compared to the breathing thing, this is nothing.”

A little shiver of arousal ran down Penny’s spine, remembering their scene earlier that week. The smooth leather of the collar around Quentin’s throat, his desperate gasping as the spell gave him just enough air to keep him from passing out, not nearly enough to be comfortable… Penny had been planning on staying at the party for a while longer, but maybe he could convince Kady to leave early and try that one out with him. “Glad you ended up liking it,” he said.

“Me too.” Quentin sipped his drink. “Sometimes I just need kind of. The right _push_. And that’ll make me brave enough to try something. Not always,” he says, pointing a finger at Penny. “But sometimes.”

Penny pointed right back at him, mimicking his overly serious expression. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Quentin’s face broke into a huge smile, and he giggled into his drink. “You’re a dork.”

“ _You’re_ a dork,” Penny shot back, extremely aware that this was the dorkiest possible reply he could have made — but what the hell. Quentin really wasn’t a bad dude. He was wound tighter than a spring most of the time, was a massive pain in the ass in class, twitched and stammered his way through the most normal social interactions, but under that massively annoying exterior, he was actually— pretty great to hang out with.

The silence between them was comfortable, as Quentin people-watched and nursed his drink and Penny craned his neck over to see where the hell Kady had gone. He spotted her back on the dance floor, a beer in each hand. She had gotten waylaid by Julia, clearly in the yelling-woo-and-telling-random-girls-in-the-bathroom-you-love-them-a-lot stage of drunkenness, who it seemed had insisted on a dance. 

They were swaying together slowly. Kady’s arms were looped around Julia’s shoulders, Julia was holding tight to Kady’s hips. Julia was saying something extremely earnestly, and Kady was smiling at her, her face softer than usual — Penny only got to see that smile when they were alone, usually right after sex, or in the mornings when Kady didn’t realize he’d already woken up and could see the sappy face she was making at him. It was one of his favorites.

“You really like her, huh?” Quentin asked in Penny’s ear. “Like, _really_.”

“What are you, _twelve_?” Penny said, but there was no real heat in it. “Of course I do.”

“You know,” Quentin started, then stopped. Penny turned to look at him. “You know if this is, if what we’re doing is— keeping you from that,” he said in a rush. “From something real. You should go for it. For the real thing. I’ll be fine.” He took a huge gulp of his drink.

“Oh, trust me, I’d drop your ass in a hot second if I thought that was happening,” Penny said, knowing Quentin would take it in the spirit it was intended. “We’re all good.”

“Okay,” Quentin said into his drink. “Just a thought.”

Kady appeared by Penny’s side and slid a beer into his hand. “Got delayed,” she said. “Girl stuff.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Penny said. “Girl stuff gonna keep you out late tonight?”

“No, just apologies for things that don’t need apologizing for, but Julia’s wine drunk.” Kady took a long swig of her beer and rested her head on Penny’s shoulder. “When were you thinking of heading out?”

“Actually, I was just thinking.” Penny slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side a little. She came easily, molding against him. “I’ve got this new accessory I kinda want to show off for you. Back to my place?”

A smile spread across her face as she picked up on what he was asking. “I could be up for that.” She leaned up close to whisper in his ear. “I do always like it when I can take your breath away.”

Penny turned his head and kissed her thoroughly. She kissed back, sinking her teeth into his lip. The spark of arousal at the base of his spine blossomed into a flame.

Eventually Penny remembered that they had somewhere much more fun to be. “Let’s go,” he said, a little breathless already. “See ya, Q.”

“Yeah,” Quentin said distractedly.

Penny glanced over his shoulder to see Quentin looking off into another corner of the party. He followed his gaze, and, not surprisingly, at the other end of it, he found Eliot holding court. He was laughing, broad smile lighting up his face. His hair was curled impeccably. There was a guy sitting on the arm of his chair, some Nature kid with tousled brown hair and a flannel shirt, leaning in to hang on Eliot’s every word.

Penny looked from Eliot, to Quentin’s expression, and back, and decided not to say anything. Either those two would figure their shit out or they wouldn’t. He let Kady draw him away, off the couch and out into the starry night.

  


* * *

  


_Strangers in the Night. Level: Intermediate. When cast, this spell will render the target unable to recognize the physical features or voices of those around them. If multiple people are nearby, they will be indistinguishable from each other. Very useful for roleplaying scenes dealing with anonymity, infidelity, kidnapping, consent play, or other situations in which the target would like to interact with a stranger or anonymous partner._

  


* * *

  


“Nuh-uh,” Penny said, taking the bright orange post-it note off of the page for _Warner’s Ribcage Readjustment_ and crumpling it up definitively. “Nope. Too dangerous. Not doing it.”

“The spell says that no adverse medical effects have been observed,” Quentin argued.

“Yeah, well, the people who wrote that hadn’t met you,” Penny said. He handed the book back to Quentin. “Pick something else.”

Quentin sighed, his mouth shaping itself into the stubborn pout that Penny mostly saw during scenes, these days. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I don’t know _why_ , but fine.”

“Quentin,” Penny said, in the voice of someone explaining a very simple concept to a very dense toddler. “If I put a spell on you that made you flexible enough to suck your own dick, you would _never leave your bedroom again_.” He didn’t miss how Quentin’s whole body shivered at the words _suck your own dick_. All the more reason to draw a line in the sand here, then. “I’d find you two days later, passed out from dehydration and with your jaw stuck permanently open.”

“You’d find me before then,” Quentin said absently. He bent over another marked page, tucked his hair back behind his ear as he read. “You’re a good dom. Here, what about this one?”

Penny read over the spell. Definitely interesting. Having Quentin under his control with realizing who Penny was, not recognizing his face, his voice— that was intriguing. “I think we could have some fun with this. Any specific kind of scene you had in mind?”

“Kind of. The first thing I thought of— you know that thing in porn where like, one sub is servicing a whole party of masked people? Just getting passed around? I wonder if we could use this spell for something like that, where I don’t know who you are, I’m just there to please you however you want me to.”

Penny looked back at the spell. “That could work,” he said. “Might be tricky if you really want the whole party aspect. It’s gonna be clear that I’m just one guy.”

“Yeah, that’s where it kind of falls apart,” Quentin said, shrugging. “But it seems worth trying in the one-person variation, anyway, if you’re up for it.”

“Or,” Penny said slowly, staring at the book. An idea was coming together in his head. Probably a little crazy. Okay, a lot crazy. But hadn’t Quentin said that sometimes, he just needed the right push to go for something that scared him?

“Or?”

“If we got one other person,” Penny said. How to bring this up so Quentin wouldn’t freak out… “It wouldn’t be a whole party, but then at least you’d get the back-and-forth of being passed from one to the other, you’d get them talking about what a good little slut you are, or whatever. Would that be closer?”

Quentin’s cheeks had started to redden a little as Penny talked. “Uh. Yeah. But who’s our other person?” 

Penny looked at him meaningfully.

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Quentin snapped.

“Look, just hear me out. It’s fucking obvious that you’re into each other,” Penny said. “We need a third person for this, so, perfect excuse. It could be a one-off thing, if you want, totally casual. Doesn’t have to affect your friendship at all. You wouldn’t know it was him during, so you wouldn’t be able to freak out in the moment, because hey, it might just be me. All you’d have to do was be good for both of us, and then, who knows.” Penny shrugged. “Maybe you two could work. I don’t know. You don’t know until you try it.”

Quentin had his hand fisted in his own hair, tugging. His face was redder than ever. “How is that— that is the opposite of— why would I—”

“We don’t have to,” Penny said, putting up both hands. “It’s just a suggestion. Perfectly happy to do the version with just me.”

Quentin swallowed hard. “Can I,” he started, then bit down on his lip. Finally, he said, “Can I have a couple days to think about it?”

Penny politely kept his smirk inside his head. “Yeah, of course,” he said. “Whatever works for you.”


	4. don't say i didn't warn ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s going to be fine. I just have to, fucking, march upstairs and ask my insanely hot best friend if he wants to bang me just, like, once. With another person there. And oh, also, I won’t be able to see his face.” He emerged from the bathroom and flung himself backwards onto the bed. “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Sylph for betaing, and for yelling at me so I didn't get distracted by shiny new projects.

Quentin had insisted, and Penny had agreed, that if they were going to do this, Quentin had to be the one to ask. If he couldn’t even _ask_ , after all, that didn’t exactly bode well for the scene itself. So Penny told him to take his time — they still had plenty of other spells to try out in the meantime — and had dropped the subject. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it pull its head out of its adorable ass and proposition the guy it’s obviously head over heels in love with.

He was starting to think Quentin wasn’t actually going to do it. But then, one Wednesday night, Quentin poked his head out of the bathroom where he was washing the toys they’d used and spotted Penny stepping back into his jeans. 

“Hey— um. Could you maybe—?” Quentin swallowed, looking miserable. “Can you stay for a minute? I’m gonna go, um. I’m. Uh, upstairs, and um. Yeah.” He waved a hand expressively.

Penny raised his eyebrows. “Well this is going to be a fucking disaster.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Quentin said heatedly. He turned off the water, and Penny heard the wet _smack!_ of a dildo being suction-cupped to the edge of the sink to air-dry. “It’s going to be fine. I just have to, fucking, march upstairs and ask my insanely hot best friend if he wants to bang me just, like, once. With another person there. And oh, also, I won’t be able to see his face.” He emerged from the bathroom and flung himself backwards onto the bed. “Fuck.”

“You probably want to work on your phrasing,” Penny said helpfully. He easily dodged the pillow Quentin threw at him. “Seriously, though, if you don’t want to do this, we really do not have to.” 

“No, I—” Quentin sighed, flinging an arm across his face. “It’s good to get out of my comfort zone,” he said, like he was repeating something he’d been told a million times and still didn’t quite believe. “And I want to try this spell, and I want— I want to try.”

“I can stick around,” Penny said. He grabbed a book off Quentin’s shelf and settled on the bed, nudging Quentin over so he could sprawl.

Quentin got to his feet with a groan, then spotted what Penny was reading. “Whoa, no, that’s a first edition. Here—” He crossed to the bookshelf and picked up a battered paperback, swapping it for the hardcover in Penny’s hand. “This one’s for reading.”

Penny eyed him. “And that one’s for…?”

“Shut up,” Quentin said again. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He took a deep breath, visibly psyching himself up, and marched out the door.

Penny had actually started getting into the story he was reading a little bit by the time Quentin returned, hustling in like something was chasing him, shutting the door, and catapulting himself face-first onto the bed. His head ended up by Penny’s hip.

“That good, huh?” Penny asked, reaching down to stroke Quentin’s hair. This seemed like a situation that might need some aftercare, even though nobody had gotten their dick out. Well. He was pretty sure nobody had gotten their dick out. You never really knew, with Eliot.

“He’s free Monday,” Quentin said into the bedspread.

Penny blinked. “What?”

“He’s free Monday,” Quentin repeated, lifting his head and glaring at Penny. “He said yes. He wants to talk first about limits and stuff — I told him he should talk to you for that, I trust you to know what I need. But. He’s in. This is happening.” He buried his face in the covers again.

Penny set the paperback down next to him and gripped the back of Quentin’s neck gently. “You good?”

“Yes. Maybe. Not even a little.” Quentin squirmed his way further onto the bed and wrestled Penny’s arm so it was around his body, tucking his face against Penny’s chest. Penny took the hint and held him tight. Quentin’s heart was pounding, and he was doing that deliberate four-seven-eight breathing thing he’d apparently learned in therapy and did when he was a hair’s breadth from a panic attack.

“You want to talk about why this is freaking you out so bad?”

“You fucking _know_ why it’s freaking me out so bad,” Quentin snapped. When Penny squeezed him even tighter, he relaxed a little. “Sorry,” he said. “You do know, though. Like. Pretty sure you wouldn’t have suggested this if you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Penny said. “We won’t talk about it if you don’t want to. This can be a completely one-off thing.”

“I don’t know,” Quentin whined. “I don’t. I won’t know until we do it, I think.”

“Cool.” Penny shifted so he could flip the paperback open to the page he’d been on and read over Quentin’s shoulder while still hugging him. “I’ll stay awhile. You let me know when you’re good.”

* * *

Eliot’s idea of neutral territory was a tiny coffee shop in Brooklyn, tucked on the upper floor above a bodega and a head shop. Penny sipped his absurdly expensive coffee and watched him finish flirting with the barista and head over to the table with his drink.

“Penny, Penny, Penny,” Eliot said. “So good to talk with you. Why haven’t we gotten to know each other before now?”

Penny shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like we have a ton in common. And I don’t think you want to bone me, so you haven’t exactly gone out of your way to make our paths cross.”

“Harsh but fair,” Eliot said. “I did sort you into the _probably straight_ category almost immediately. Prematurely, as I have now learned.” He sipped his coffee, some kind of latte preceded by about twelve adjectives. 

Penny wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Yeah,” he said. “So. Quentin.”

“Indeed.” Eliot took another sip of coffee, slowly and deliberately. “I guess I have my answer, now, as to what the nature of your relationship is. Have you done scenes with another dom before?”

“Not really,” Penny said. “But the scene he wants seems pretty easy. I don’t think there’s going to be much risk of stepping on each other’s toes.”

“He didn’t give me too many details,” Eliot said. “Tell me more?”

Penny described Quentin’s fantasy: being passed around a group of anonymous strangers, pleasing them in any way they demanded. Eliot’s face stayed perfectly still, the picture of mild interest, but Penny noticed his long fingers start to fiddle with one of his rings, twirling it slowly around. “With the anonymity spell, he won’t recognize either of us as people he knows, either our faces or our voices,” Penny finished. “And I don’t think he’ll be able to tell the difference between us, really, either. We’re similar heights and builds, the spell will mess up his perception of skin tone. It should be pretty anonymous.”

Eliot’s mouth quirked up to a half-smile. “He might notice _some_ differences. I’m, ah. Fairly blessed, size-wise.”

Penny raised an eyebrow. “He’ll like that. He’s a complete fucking size queen. Although, call him that, he’ll bite your head off.”

Eliot’s neutrally attentive expression slipped just a bit, his eyes flashing. “Is he,” he said slowly.

“He begged me to fist him, like, a month into us doing this. Took it like a pro, too.” Penny watched Eliot’s gaze jump down to Penny’s hand, wrapped around his coffee mug, then back up to Penny’s face. “So yeah. He’ll be into it.”

“Good to know,” Eliot said hoarsely. He took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “Any limits or boundaries to know about?”

“Honestly? There’s really not much off limits with him, he’s into anything and everything. Call him any name in the book, hit him as hard as you want, as long as you don’t do damage beyond bruises he’ll love it. Pain, temperature, getting tied up, he likes all that. We’ve been doing some breath stuff, he’s not as excited about it, but that’s more of a soft limit we could talk about. As for me, I’m not opposed to you and I doing anything together, if you’re interested, but it also doesn’t seem like a big part of this scene.”

“True,” Eliot said. “Unless we hit a point where we need to make him jealous by focusing on each other if he’s not doing well enough.”

Penny grinned. “Oh, he’d hate that. In a good way, I mean. He goes way bratty, most of the time, but he also hates being told he’s bad.”

“Praise kink, check.” Eliot leaned forward. His impassive facade was nearly entirely gone, now, replaced by an eager, nearly devious expression. “You said name-calling — slut, bitch, fucktoy, what?”

“I use slut a lot, haven’t tried fucktoy. Not so much bitch, that feels a little too — sexist? Like, feminizing. Not my jam. And I’m not into master-slave talk, that’s a limit, actually.” Penny took a drink of his coffee, which was rapidly cooling to room temperature. “How about you? Limits, likes, dislikes?”

Eliot relaxed more and more as they talked, dropping some of his bravado, which let Penny relax too. The conversation flowed naturally, once they got warmed up. They may not have had much in common, but on the one interest they apparently shared — domming the absolute hell out of Quentin Coldwater — they had plenty to discuss.

Quentin was actually _lurking outside Penny’s room_ when Penny got back from the city, sitting with his back to the wall and his knees tucked under his chin, a book balanced on them. “How’d it go?” he asked the moment Penny got close enough for him to ask without having to shout down the hall.

“Good,” Penny said, trying not to look too charmed by how adorably eager Quentin was. He should have seen this coming, Quentin was always going to get weirdly intense about this. “We’re on for Monday.” He unlocked his wards and his door and held the door open for Quentin to come inside.

“So, he’s, um. Still interested? Or. Interested, in general, I guess.” Quentin didn’t even wait for an invitation before he climbed up onto Penny’s bed to sit cross-legged. His book was clutched in white-knuckled hands.

“He’s definitely interested.” Penny left out the _you complete idiot_. “Although I did have to agree to dress you in pink and call you Sally, so.”

“Wait, _what_?”

“That was a joke. Relax.” Penny climbed past Quentin to stretch out on the bed. “We talked, we got everything planned out. He’s into a lot of the same stuff we like.”

“What kind of stuff?” Quentin asked.

Penny smirked at him. “I’m gonna let the details be a surprise. It’s all things we’ve done before. Like I said when we first talked about this, all you have to do is be good for both of us. Follow orders.”

Quentin looked mildly panicked. “ _All_ I have to do— you know I’m terrible at following orders.”

“Then you’ll find out what happens when you fuck up.” Penny watched heat blossom in Quentin’s cheeks. “Are you here for me to calm you down? Or to give you a preview?”

“I mean. The goal was calm down, but.” Quentin swallowed hard. “You up for it?”

Penny reached out and did the tuts to re-lock and ward his door. “I’m not gonna go too hard on you,” he said. “I want that pretty little ass all ready to show off on Monday.”

“Tie me to the headboard, then?” Quentin asked, already starting to unbutton his shirt. “Fuck my face from above?”

Penny grinned and reached into his bedside table for his rope. “Sounds good.”

* * *

Monday evening arrived, and Quentin was, predictably, a mess. Over the last hour, Penny had watched as he re-checked the soundproofing and privacy wards on his room four times, fussed over the arrangement of toys in his toy box, took a shower with only twenty minutes to go even though they were magicians, for fuck’s sake, they’d already done all their cleaning and protection spells, there was no way he needed it. And now he was flipping his shit because his hair was still wet, and he wasn’t sure if it’d dry in time, but he didn’t want to go ask Margo to borrow her hair dryer because she might ask what he was getting all dressed up for.

“You don’t think she already knows?” Penny asked from his vantage point in the middle of Anxiety Hurricane Quentin. He was almost done with this book, by now, and was eyeing Quentin’s bookshelves trying to figure out if it was a series. “Eliot must have told her something, if he doesn’t want her banging on his door all night trying to figure out where he is.”

“He wouldn’t have told her the details,” Quentin insisted.

“Does Alice have a dryer? Or Julia?”

“Maybe, but they disappeared into Alice’s room together right after Herbalism this afternoon and I am _not_ going to disturb them.” Quentin ran his hands through his damp hair. “What if I— there must be a spell for this, right?”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Eliot knows it.” Penny put down his book and stretched his arms in front of him. “We can ask him when he gets here.”

“See but then he’d _know_ —”

“Know what? That you wanted to look nice for him? Jesus, Coldwater.” Penny stood up, grabbing Quentin by the shoulders to stop his pacing. “Okay, look. I don’t usually do this since we’re not 24-7, but I’m pulling the dom card. I’m going to tie you to your bed, and you’re going to lie there and do some deep breathing while I fix this. If you ask real nice I might give you one of your Fillory books to read. Let’s go, come on.”

“Okay,” Quentin said, messing with his hair again as Penny steered him towards the bed. “Okay, yeah, um. Yeah. A book would be good.”

“Arms up,” Penny said, and Quentin stretched out on the bed, arms above his head. Penny moved through the motions of the spell, and sheets of shimmering black light wrapped around Quentin’s body and the bed, pinning him in place from his armpits on down. “All right. Which of these books gets you the horniest?”

“They don’t— they’re _kids_ books—” Quentin spluttered. “Just give me the fourth one. Fuck.”

Penny left him strapped down, and when he came back a bit later, Margo’s hair dryer in hand, Quentin was deep in the well-worn pages. It took him a second to look up and notice Penny, which Penny took as a very good sign.

“How— whose—”

“I made an excuse about Kady needing it.” Penny did the counterspell, releasing Quentin from the bed. “Seriously though, man, you’ve got to chill. I’ll tie you up if that’s the only thing that’ll get you there.”

“Yeah, I mean, maybe,” Quentin said, raising his voice to talk over the whir of the dryer.

So when Eliot arrived, precisely on time, ten minutes later, Quentin was in much the same position he’d been in when Penny had found him back when this whole thing had started: on his stomach on the bed, neatly hogtied. He had a blindfold on this time instead of a gag, and they’d decided to leave his underwear on, but the effect was still pretty striking.

“Hey,” Penny said, poking his head around the door at Eliot’s polite knock. “Just so you know, we’re a little bit started already.”

“That’s fine,” Eliot said. He was underdressed, for him, in a crisp white shirt and maroon slacks, a coordinated belt and tie.

Penny took a step back, positioning himself so he’d be able to see Eliot’s face when he saw Quentin on the bed. The effort was worth it. Eliot blinked, looking like he was barely keeping his jaw from dropping open. Then he recovered and stood up even taller, a calm, regal expression flowing over his face.

“All wrapped up like a present,” he said, low and seductive. On the bed, Quentin jumped, his whole body twitching. “Shh, Q. You’re fine.” Eliot stepped up to the end of the bed and put a gentle hand on Quentin’s hair, stroked the backs of his fingers down Quentin’s cheek. “It’s me. You’re good with what we have planned tonight?”

Quentin tried to answer, then had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah,” he managed finally.

“I’ll be following Penny’s lead, here. We’re going to take good care of you.”

Quentin shuddered. “I know you will,” he said. “I’m gonna, um. Be in character? So don’t, uh, be too surprised if I’m, um. Different from usual.”

“Of course. This is a scene, we’ll all be playing our roles.” Eliot took a deep breath and turned to Penny. “Shall we?”

The spell was a bit more complicated than the usual, but Eliot was actually really fucking good at magic, and they got through it with no problems. A high-pitched buzzing filled the room as they finished the incantation, and then abruptly disappeared when Penny touched Quentin’s head, marking him as the spell’s target. “All right,” Penny said, carefully pulling off Quentin’s blindfold. 

Quentin blinked up at him, blinked again. A slow smile spread over his face. “Hi,” he said. “You gonna have some fun with me?”

Eliot made a noise like he’d been punched in the stomach, and Quentin turned to look at him. “Two of you,” he said. “Even better. Fuck.” His eyes roamed hungrily over Eliot’s body, then Penny’s.

Penny cupped Quentin’s chin in one hand, tipping his face up. “You have a _very_ generous dom,” he said, “letting you serve both of us for the night. You’ll need to thank him when you see him later.”

Quentin rolled his eyes. Clearly, although he didn’t know if the person talking was Penny or Eliot, he was going to be his normal in-scene self. “He’s kind of an asshole, actually,” he said. “I don’t need to thank him for anything.”

Penny let go of Quentin’s chin and slapped him across the face — far from the hardest slap he’d ever given him, but hard enough to be serious. Quentin gaped at him, then closed his mouth, clenching his jaw. “Wanna try that again?”

“I’ll thank him,” Quentin said, not sounding grateful in the least.

Eliot had watched this whole exchange silently. Now he stepped up to the bed and grabbed Quentin’s hair, tugging it back so his chin was tilted up. “That’s more like it,” he said. “He told us you’d be a good boy for us, so we should treat you well.” He pulled harder on Quentin’s hair. “He also said, if you _weren’t_ a good boy, we should punish you as we saw fit.”

Quentin laughed breathlessly. With his head pulled so far back, he could look up into Eliot’s face. Penny wished he knew what Quentin was seeing, whether the man he was looking at looked anything like Eliot, or whether his brain was coming up with some fantasy guy. Although probably any fantasy guy Quentin’s brain invented would look a whole lot like Eliot anyway. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Eliot released Quentin’s hair and slapped him as well, just a hair harder than Penny had. “Bit of a mouth on this one,” he remarked to Penny. “You think he can use it for anything other than sass?”

“Only one way to find out,” Penny said, already unzipping his pants.

Quentin’s red cheeks reddened further, and he licked his lips. “Oh, did my dom not tell you? I fucking love having my face fucked.”

Eliot briefly looked like his knees were going to collapse, but recovered admirably, yanking on Quentin’s hair again. “Did we ask your opinion?”

“No,” Quentin gasped. “Although you should know I also love having my hair pulled, so. Maybe not the best way to punish me.”

“Jesus, he really is a brat,” Eliot said, looking at Penny. He didn’t let go of Quentin’s hair, instead tightening his fingers even further, putting sharp pressure on the silky strands.

“We’ll have to keep his mouth busy so he’ll shut the fuck up.” Penny cupped Quentin’s chin in one hand, stroking himself lightly with the other. He was already half hard. It had been a while since he’d seen the full force of bratty Quentin, and he’d forgotten how much he liked it. He hooked his thumb into Quentin’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue so he couldn’t talk. “Or use one of the gags he’s got over there.”

“I doubt we’ll need it.” Eliot was rubbing himself through his pants, sliding his big hand along a seriously impressive bulge. _Fairly blessed_ , sure. That might have been an understatement. “There are two of us, he’s got two holes. We’ll keep him nice and filled up.”

Penny shifted forward, close enough that he could rub the head of his cock along Quentin’s lower lip. Quentin tried to lean in and close his lips around it, only stopped by Penny’s thumb in his mouth and Eliot’s hand in his hair. Penny pulled back and smacked Quentin on the cheek with his dick, making a dull slapping noise.

“What, you want this?” Penny asked. “You gagging for it?”

“Yes,” Quentin said, although around Penny’s finger it came out more as “Yiehh”. The way he’d started to drool and the bright flush in his cheeks were an extremely clear affirmative.

“Do a good job,” Penny said, “and I’ll fuck your face.”

He pulled his thumb out of Quentin’s mouth and fed his cock in carefully. Eliot watched, releasing Quentin’s hair once his lips were fully wrapped around Penny’s dick.

Penny groaned as the wet heat of Quentin’s mouth surrounded his cock. “Okay,” he said, after a moment, once Quentin had started to get into a rhythm. “I think we can work with this.”

“Not bad?”

“Not too bad,” Penny said. Quentin glared up at him and sucked harder. “Trying a little too hard, maybe. I think he really wants me to tell him how good it is.”

Eliot snorted. “He’ll have to be a lot more impressive to earn that.”

Quentin wriggled on the bed, moving a couple inches forward so he could shove his face all the way onto Penny’s dick, taking it to the root. Penny managed to keep a mostly straight face, only moaning a little. “Oh, he’s trying.”

“I’m not convinced,” Eliot said, sounding bored. “Can he actually take it if you fuck his face?”

“Might as well try it.” Penny slid his fingers into Quentin’s hair, getting a firm grip. Quentin stopped moving, waiting with the head of Penny’s dick in his mouth. “Oh, now we’re going to be patient, huh?” 

Penny shoved forward, much harder than he normally would to get things started. Quentin choked once and readjusted the angle of his chin so Penny’s dick could slide all the way back to the opening of his throat. “Okay, this is more like it. He can take a dick, at least.”

“Thank god,” Eliot said. “I was starting to think this was going to be a total waste of my time.” He was toying with the ropes binding Quentin’s limbs, tracing his long fingers where they curled around Quentin’s arms, his thighs. He palmed Quentin’s ass, then smacked it, hard. Quentin jolted a tiny bit, his grunt vibrating through Penny’s cock.

“We’ll have to be careful, though,” Penny said, never slowing his pace. “His dom said he’ll try to get himself off, if you don’t watch him like a hawk.”

Eliot smacked Quentin’s ass again. “Perhaps we should flip him over, then.”

“Good idea.” Penny stopped fucking Quentin’s face, drawing out carefully. Quentin gasped for breath, and when Penny did the reversal spell to undo the hogtie, he dropped his face onto the bed, panting. Eliot immediately started clearing away the ropes, skimming his fingers over Quentin’s pink-striped limbs. His expression was intensely focused, his eyes tracking the progress of his hands across Quentin’s skin.

Penny grasped Quentin’s shoulders and rolled him onto his back, Quentin helping him along by rolling with him even as he pouted, feigning annoyance at being manhandled. Penny pressed his shoulders down into the bed, his hard cock dangling over Quentin’s face. 

Quentin was obviously hard under his grey briefs, a darker grey splotch marking the fabric at the head of his cock. “Yep,” Penny said. “Look at that. Fucking leaking already.” 

He glanced up, seeing Eliot staring intently at Quentin’s body, his expression a combination of utter lust and something — else. “So he is,” Eliot said softly, almost to himself. “We must have caught him just in time.” He took a deep breath and reached for the waistband of Quentin’s briefs. “Let’s see the rest of what we’re working with.”

Penny couldn’t help smiling as Quentin’s cock sprang free and he got to watch Eliot see it for the first time. It was fucking nice, thick and curved a little, sturdy and compact like the rest of him. Eliot’s eyes widened for a second before he schooled his expression back into its neutral sneer.

“Mm, not bad at all,” he said. He reached out decisively and slid a hand up Quentin’s thigh, cupping his balls for a moment then wrapping his fingers around his dick. Quentin made a pleased noise and shifted up into his grip, fucking up into the loose circle of Eliot’s fingers. “Ah, I see what you mean about trying to get himself off.” Eliot kept his hand still, fingers wound loosely around Quentin’s dick, and watched as Quentin fucked up into his grip, stroking himself. “Needy little slut, isn’t he?”

“Sassy, needy, bratty,” Penny said. “So far he hasn’t been doing much to make it worth it to play with him.”

“You haven’t been _doing_ anything with me,” Quentin scoffed. “Am I supposed to just guess what you want?” His hips never stopped moving, shoving his dick into Eliot’s fist.

“What do you think would be the best way to serve us?” Eliot asked. He shifted his grip, holding tight at the base of Quentin’s cock, his other hand pinning Quentin’s hips to the bed. “Not the way you’d most like. The best way. How can you show us how good you are?”

Quentin whined, trying to thrust up, but found that Eliot was more than strong enough to hold him in place — Penny felt a tingle of magic in the air, figured Eliot was probably using a little telekinesis to help with that. “I’m good with my mouth,” he said finally. “Your friend there can vouch for that. And I can take anything in my ass. I’ll take both of you at once, if you want.”

Eliot laughed, low and dangerous. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I can,” Quentin said confidently. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m going to ask you about that again in a moment,” Eliot said, letting Quentin go and reaching for his belt buckle. “Flip over.” He glanced at Penny. “Mind if I use that mouth?”

“Be my guest,” Penny said, and stepped off to the side, taking the opportunity to fully undress so his jeans weren’t awkwardly down around his knees.

Quentin rolled to his stomach and was rutting a little against the bed. Penny pulled his hips up sharply, getting him on all fours, and palmed Quentin’s ass. It was taking Eliot a moment to get naked, so he pulled back and landed a hard smack on Quentin’s cheeks.

Quentin breathed out sharply. “What was that for?” he asked Penny, looking back over his shoulder.

“Just for fun,” Penny said, shrugging. “But now this one’s for talking back.” He spanked Quentin again, the sound ringing through the bedroom, the impact stinging his hand. 

“I’ve been talking back a lot,” Quentin pointed out, arching his back. Penny spanked him a few more times, wordlessly, enjoying the zips of pleasure across his face as he leaned into the pain. Then Penny glanced over at the foot of the bed, where Eliot had finished taking off his shirt and getting his dick out, and started laughing.

“You better turn around,” he told Quentin. “See what my friend here is working with.”

Quentin did, and it was a real shame Penny couldn’t see his face, because the jolt of surprise and arousal that ran through his body was fucking beautiful. Eliot had definitely been understating things, back at the coffee shop. Penny was one hundred percent sure he’d never seen a dick this big in the wild, nor was he likely to again.

Quentin, for once in his fucking life, was speechless. Penny took advantage of his stunned silence to haul back and smack him hard across the ass again, making him yelp in shock.

“Yeah, you talk a big fucking game,” Penny said. “But get you face to face with a cock you don’t think you can take, and you get all shy.”

Eliot had been stroking himself leisurely, the slow movement of his long fingers only emphasizing how fucking big he was, and he stopped his hand at the base and moved forward a bit to rub his cock against Quentin’s cheek. Quentin moaned, sounding stunned. “Let’s revisit that claim of yours,” Eliot said. “You still think you could take both of us in your ass at once?”

“Maybe, um—” Quentin breathed out slowly, his body listing forward towards Eliot. “Maybe not.”

“I’ll let you get away with writing checks your body can’t cash this one time,” Eliot said, “if you do a good enough job sucking it.”

Penny watched Quentin lunge forward to get his mouth on Eliot’s dick, saw the shudder that ran through his body as he tried to take it in. He actually heard Quentin _choke_ , which may just have been for dramatic effect — but it seemed like seeing that massive fucking cock had thrown Quentin pretty far out of his character and into real subspace, so maybe not.

Eliot, in the meantime, was staring down at Quentin like he’d never seen him before. Penny suspected he _thought_ about seeing Quentin like this on close to a nightly basis, but getting exactly the thing you fantasized about had to be an intense experience, so it was no wonder he looked completely overwhelmed. His hands floated to Quentin’s head, resting gently, and then he blinked and let out a shuddering breath and dug his fingers into Quentin’s hair, obviously pulling hard.

“I see what you mean about trying too hard,” he drawled, only a little breathless. Damn, he was good at this. “It’s almost kind of cute. Mm, that’s it, choke on it. Get Daddy’s cock all the way in that pretty throat.”

Daddy kink wasn’t particularly Penny’s thing, but fuck if Eliot didn’t make it work. Penny tore his eyes away from Quentin’s bobbing head to focus on his ass, still slightly pink and warm from the spanking. Penny conjured up some lube with their favorite incantation and spread it down the length of Quentin’s crack, smearing it around his hole. The tight muscle twitched under his fingers. “I think he wants us to fill him all the way up, both ends,” Penny said. 

Quentin let out a strangled noise that might have been “mm-hmm” if he’d had slightly less dick in his mouth.

Penny slid a finger in all the way, no teasing necessary — Quentin knew exactly how to take him. His body squeezed around Penny’s finger and released, letting him in. “Surprisingly tight,” Penny said, “considering how hungry he is for cock.”

“There are all sorts of charms to make it seem that way,” Eliot said. “Finger him hard, that’ll be the real test.”

Penny grabbed Quentin’s ass in one hand to spread him open and hold him in place, then started fucking his finger into him, quick and deep. “Still good,” he said after a moment, as Quentin canted his hips up into his hands. He added a second finger. Quentin moaned, gagging a little on Eliot’s dick as he did so. “I think he may really be that tight after all.”

Eliot chuckled darkly. “He won’t be when we’re done with him.” 

Quentin made a noise like he was imploding. Penny kept fingering him, opening him up, careful to go at the pace and angle Quentin liked but not quite hard enough to have him coming on Penny’s fingers. Quentin was slowly shifting his weight more and more towards Penny, shoving his ass into Penny’s hand and onto his fingers. His moans got louder and louder as Penny worked him over.

“Well that’s disappointing,” Eliot said coolly. He took a step back, and suddenly Quentin’s moans were full-throated, his panting very audible. “He got so into you fucking his ass that he nearly stopped sucking my dick.”

Penny also stepped away, letting his hands leave Quentin’s body. Quentin whined wordlessly. “Huh. I thought he’d be better at multitasking.”

“You’d think so. I mean, that’s bare minimum qualifications for a cockslut like he claims to be.” Eliot raised an eyebrow, looking Quentin over, and glanced up at Penny. “Shall we show him how it’s meant to be done?”

Quentin’s whole body spasmed uncontrollably, shaking so hard he nearly collapsed onto the bed. Penny grinned — this was going exactly as well as they’d planned. “I’m not really much of a cockslut, but I think even I could give him a few tips,” he said, strolling down to the end of the bed to square up with Eliot. He paused to look down at Quentin, whose jaw was hanging open, mouth red and shining with spit, looking utterly dazed. “Pay attention. Maybe you’ll actually learn to be decent at your job.”

He turned back to Eliot and then Eliot’s hand was wrapping around the back of Penny’s neck to draw him in for a kiss. Penny hadn’t made out with a whole lot of people taller than him, so it was briefly kind of awkward as he figured out the angle, but Eliot was an excellent kisser. He slid an arm around Penny’s waist, bringing their bodies in line, letting that absolutely massive cock press against Penny’s own erection. Penny moaned, mostly for Quentin’s benefit, but it definitely fucking felt good.

Eliot kissed his way down Penny’s neck, then slid to his knees, swallowing Penny’s dick in one smooth motion. Penny had known this was coming, but damn, he was fucking good. He heel-toed his feet wider to brace himself, sliding his fingers through Eliot’s hair. Eliot looked up at him through those long lashes, and Penny lost the thread of the scene for a moment in the wet heat of his mouth and the even gaze of his eyes. Fuck. _Fuck._ It was totally different from getting blown by Quentin — where Quentin’s blowjobs were full of eagerness and hunger, Eliot’s was pure _skill_ , precise movements and the ease of a craft well-honed through extensive practice.

Penny wrestled his thoughts back to the moment at hand and said to Quentin without looking at him, “See, whatever I do to him, he’d keep sucking my dick. I could pull his hair, push him around, fuck his mouth, he’d stay at it. That’s what you need to do to serve us.”

Eliot pulled off of Penny’s dick with a slurp. “I know it may be slightly more difficult with my cock,” he said, continuing in Penny’s tone of a mildly interesting lecture, “but any slut worth anything would be able to manage it.”

“Hell, I think _I_ could manage it,” Penny said.

“I’m sure you could,” Eliot purred. “Another demonstration for him? To really drive home the lesson?”

Penny sank to his knees as Eliot rose, graceful, the long line of his body gorgeous in the soft light of the room. Penny licked his lips, getting his hands around that huge dick and stroking. Eliot wasn’t really Penny’s type, and Penny wasn’t a size queen like Quentin was, but the challenge of trying to get this thing in his mouth was really doing it for him.

 _Trying_ was definitely the operative word, as Penny stretched his jaw open as wide as it would go and still only managed to get the head past his lips. He worked the head of Eliot’s cock with his tongue, breathing through his nose to try and get himself to relax, take in more. Above him, Eliot sighed happily.

“You see,” he said, looking down at Penny, caressing his cheekbone with one thumb, “he’s having trouble with it, but he’s still _trying_. He’s putting in his best effort. Unlike you.”

Penny closed his eyes, hoping that would somehow make it easier to work with. Everything he couldn’t get into his mouth he could stroke with his hand, at least, and it seemed like Eliot’s cock was wet most of the way down. Had Quentin actually gotten that far onto it? The guy was some kind of fucking prodigy. Unbelievable.

His eyes flew open when Eliot tapped him gently on the cheek, at the same time as he said, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” in a low, dangerous voice. A whine from the bed told Penny the comment had been directed at Quentin, not him. He pulled back, working his jaw to ease the ache that was already developing, and looked over.

Quentin was frozen in place, still on hands and knees, but he’d brought one of his hands in, arm held tight against his body, and had his fingers wrapped around his dick. He’d obviously been trying to hide it — not very successfully.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Penny said, putting a note of anger into his voice.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” Quentin said weakly.

“We shouldn’t have to _say_ ,” Eliot spat. “Jesus Christ. Are you worth _anything_?”

Quentin glared. “I am,” he said. “You’re not _using_ me for anything. So I might as well have my fun by myself, right?”

“You have really fucking misunderstood why you’re here tonight,” Penny said, standing so both he and Eliot could loom over Quentin. Quentin shrank down a little on the bed, but still didn’t take his hand off his dick. Defiant little brat. “You’re here to do _whatever_ we want, using you, not using you, anything. Whether you have fun or not is not our fucking problem, honestly.”

“I think we’ve been going about this all wrong,” Eliot said, tapping a thoughtful finger against his cheek. “We’ve been trying to teach this slut how to do his job, but that’s clearly a lost cause. So we’ll just have to take what we want from him, and maybe some decent etiquette will somehow seep its way into his brain in the process.”

“Maybe,” Penny agreed, enjoying how Quentin swallowed hard, looked up at them wide-eyed. “But even if it doesn’t, at least we’ll have gotten a good fuck.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Eliot said. He reached out and fisted one hand into Quentin’s hair, hard. “Hands on my hips. _Now_.”

By the time Penny had gotten himself kneeling behind Quentin, Quentin was choking on Eliot’s dick again. Eliot was thrusting sharply into his mouth, holding his head in place. Quentin’s hands on Eliot’s hips would let him signal if he was really in trouble, but so far he was just holding on for dear life, not pushing away.

Penny gripped Quentin’s ass, squeezing handfuls of it hard enough to hurt. “Don’t get distracted, now,” he told Quentin. “Don’t do anything, actually. Hold still. You probably can’t fuck that up.” And with that, he pushed forward, sliding his cock into Quentin’s hole.

He hadn’t been exaggerating before — Quentin was _tight_. He always was, it was truly something. Penny watched Eliot’s rhythm for a moment, letting himself adjust to the hot squeeze of Quentin’s body around him, and then synced up the movements of his own hips, pushing into Quentin’s ass on the same beat Eliot pushed into his throat, filling him up from both ends. Quentin was shaking under Penny’s hands, the muscles of his back taut and quivering, his dick swinging with every hard thrust. Penny paused for a second, leaning forward over Quentin, far enough to press his lips to the back of Quentin’s neck.

“You good?” he asked softly. “Squeeze his hip twice for yes.” He could see Quentin do it, but looked up at Eliot to confirm. Eliot nodded at him. Penny took advantage of his position to fuck even deeper into Quentin for a few strokes, then straightened up again so he could really pick up the pace. The room filled with the sound of sex, wet noises and the smack of skin on skin, harsh breathing and Quentin’s barely audible moans.

“How’s his ass?” Eliot asked casually, like he was making small talk at a fucking cocktail party.

“Fucking good,” Penny said, not nearly as casual. He was working up a sweat, fucking Quentin hard and deep the way he liked it. “You want a turn?”

“In a moment.” Eliot carded both of his hands through Quentin’s thoroughly messed up hair. “I’m having fun up here.”

Penny kept going, watching as Eliot drew back, got his cock all the way out of Quentin’s mouth. Quentin moaned pitifully and craned his neck, trying to catch it again, unable to get far enough forward with Penny holding his hips in place. “Oh, now you want it,” Eliot said softly, mockingly. “Now you’re ready to be a good boy, if it means you get this dick in your mouth again.” He jerked Quentin’s head backwards by the hair. Penny could imagine the dazed look in Quentin’s eyes, the way his lips would be red and swollen from sucking dick. No wonder Eliot needed a break, it was fucking _incredibly_ hot.

Quentin didn’t respond to Eliot’s jibes other than ragged panting. Eliot let go of his hair, and Quentin’s head sagged forward, barely held up.

“Pause,” Eliot said to Penny, an edge to his voice. Penny drew out of Quentin, keeping a gentle hold on his hips to keep him steady. Eliot squatted down so he was face to face with Quentin. “Q? Talk to me.”

“Shouldn’t,” Quentin slurred. “Being a good boy.”

A wide grin spread over Eliot’s face. “Look at you,” he cooed. “There’s a good little slut in there after all.” He looked up at Penny. “I think we’ve finally got this show on the road.”

Penny smoothed his hands over Quentin’s ass, thumbing at his hole, pink and stretched. Quentin shivered. “Glad to hear it.”

Eliot turned his attention back to Quentin. “You’re ready to serve us?” Quentin nodded sluggishly. “Then turn around and give my friend whatever he wants.”

Quentin turned himself around on clumsy limbs while Penny cast a quick cleaning charm on his dick. He crawled up to Penny, kind of headbutting his thigh, nuzzling against his skin. Penny cupped his chin in one hand, tilting his face up. Quentin looked absolutely gone, high as a kite on endorphins and arousal. Penny had gotten him to this point before a handful of times, where Quentin could barely speak, couldn’t do anything except what was asked of him. It was always fucking intense. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, getting himself settled.

“I want you to use that mouth on me,” he told Quentin, hooking his thumb into it. Quentin closed his lips around it reflexively, sucking and letting his eyes fall closed. “You still here enough to make it good?” Quentin nodded. “All right,” Penny said, tucking Quentin’s hair behind his ear.

Quentin made a dreamy, loose noise and opened his mouth, letting Penny slide his cock between his lips, and _fuck_ , how was he still this fucking good at this with like one functioning brain cell, tops? His tongue pressed perfectly along the underside of Penny’s dick, and he shuffled his knees closer so he could prop himself on one hand, get his other up to brace on Penny’s thigh and play lightly with his balls.

Penny had gotten his dick sucked by two extremely skilled people so far tonight, plus he’d fucked Quentin hard for a decent amount of time, so he wasn’t exactly far from the edge. And looking at the state of Quentin, it probably wasn’t a good idea to draw this out too much longer anyway. The guy needed to be able to walk and speak tomorrow, probably, although Penny might advocate for calling in sick to morning classes on principle. So he held his hands gently around Quentin’s bobbing head, let the wet heat of Quentin’s mouth surround him and coax him closer, closer, the tension hanging heavy in the depths of his belly, almost ready to well up and release.

“You’ve been good,” he grated out, right on the edge, “so you get to choose. Where do you want my come? In your mouth? On your face?” Quentin sucked hard, making Penny’s hips jerk. “Does that mean mouth?” A nod, barely noticeable among the back-and-forth motion of Quentin’s head. “Keep it up, then— yeah, fuck, good boy, fuck—”

Quentin moaned as Penny shot into his mouth, his whole compact little body shuddering like he was the one coming hard. Penny did actually lean over a little to make sure that hadn’t just sent him over the edge, but no, he was still hard, thick and red and looking like he was ready to go at any second.

Penny stroked Quentin’s face, cupped his chin, as Quentin swayed on all fours, looking up at Penny with dark, hungry eyes. “You did good,” Penny told him. “You’re almost done. Just my friend left to serve, and then you can come.”

He looked over to where Eliot was sitting at the foot of the bed, barely teasing himself with the backs of two fingers. “His mouth’s good, but you really gotta try his ass,” he said, stepping back into character.

Eliot met Penny’s gaze with eyes almost as dark and lost as Quentin’s. “I think I will,” he said. “Get him laid out on his back for me?”

Without Penny even nudging him, Quentin flopped awkwardly onto his side and then rolled to his back, his shaking legs rising into the air. Eliot let out a strangled noise. “You want it that bad, huh?” he said. Penny heard his voice nearly break.

“Yeah,” Quentin said, hoarse from — well, literally everything they’d done tonight. “Want it.”

Penny rubbed Quentin’s shoulder, stroked down to his chest to tease at a nipple. Quentin whined brokenly. “Lemme help with this one,” he said. He arranged some pillows to prop himself up against the headboard, then tugged at Quentin’s arms until Quentin was lying with his head and shoulders against Penny’s chest, legs splayed out over Penny’s thighs.

Eliot waited till they were settled to approach. He’d stopped touching himself, but his dick still looked hard enough to hurt, standing nearly up against his stomach. He had that look on his face again, mind-bending lust mixed with something Penny wasn’t going to try and identify, as he got into position. He circled a big thumb around Quentin’s sensitive rim, making Quentin shudder and gasp in Penny’s arms.

“Maybe a little more lube, I think,” he said, still clearly going for detached and haughty, definitely not achieving it anymore. His words came out hushed and rumbling. His fingers moved through a few basic tuts until his hand was shining and slick, and he smeared some over Quentin’s hole, some gingerly down the length of his cock.

Before he pushed in, he gripped Quentin’s cock, gentle and light, but Quentin still yelped and shook like a fucking leaf, his hips jerking wildly. “You’ve been good enough for us,” Eliot said. “You can come when you need to. You don’t need to wait for me to give you permission.”

“Thank you,” Quentin mumbled indistinctly, pressing his face into Penny’s arm. Penny’s eyebrows just about shot through the roof, at that. All the times he’d gotten Quentin broken down and begging, he’d _never_ gotten an unprompted thank you out of him. Eliot was fucking _good_.

Quentin tensed up a little as Eliot eased forward, pushing the head of his cock into Quentin. Eliot stopped, holding very very still in a position that must have been fucking intense, with Quentin’s rim squeezing the head of his dick. Penny pressed a kiss to the side of Quentin’s head, squeezed his hand. “You got this,” he murmured in Quentin’s ear. “You can take it.”

Quentin sighed and relaxed, and Eliot kept going, sliding in slowly. Penny knew for a fact that Quentin had toys that were this big, and enjoyed them, but there had to be a difference between a silicone cock you controlled yourself and someone with an actual dick that size fucking you. Quentin breathed heavily and slowly, watching it push into him, whining a little when Eliot paused to add even more lube to get the last couple inches in.

“Fuck,” Eliot growled, when his thighs were flush with Quentin’s ass, his cock all the way inside Quentin. “You _are_ a good boy.”

Quentin moaned so desperately it was nearly a sob and tried to raise his legs again, but his muscles were shaking too hard for him to hold it. Penny reached out and hooked his arms under Quentin’s knees so he could draw his legs up and back, spread him open. Quentin and Eliot cried out in unison as the position changed the angle, stretched Quentin’s ass differently around Eliot’s dick. Judging by the way Quentin’s cock was drooling precome against his stomach, the shaft of that huge dick was probably sliding across his prostate, putting pressure exactly where he wanted it.

“Good?” Penny asked, directing the question to Eliot but squeezing Quentin’s thigh so he’d know it was for him too.

“Perfect,” Eliot breathed, staring down at where his cock was splitting Quentin open. He rocked back and forward again experimentally, readjusted the position of his knees. His hands wavered for a moment, resting on Penny’s legs, then Quentin’s waist, before they finally found a grip on the backs of Quentin’s thighs. “Get ready,” he told Quentin, who groaned. “I’m going to take what I came here for.”

Penny watched in awe as Eliot got to work, fucking into Quentin deep and relentless. Quentin’s dick jumped with every stroke, strands of precome dripping from the tip, and his head was heavy against Penny’s chest, his eyes half-closed. Soft noises spilled from his slack mouth. Eliot was staring down at him, mouth open, chest heaving as he thrust, looking like he didn’t actually believe what he was seeing.

“Fuck, god, you’re so good,” he whispered, making Quentin shiver. “So fucking— taking it— perfectly—” he broke off, shouting, his hips stuttering, but recovered his rhythm. “You want us touching your cock?” he asked.

Quentin moaned, not really giving them an answer one way or another, so Penny took up the question to let Eliot focus on shoving his cock inside Quentin. “Want us to touch you?” he asked. “Let you come? Squeeze around that huge cock?” Quentin made a high-pitched noise, his dick twitching so hard Penny thought he might’ve tipped over the edge, but no, it was just more pre-come. “Give me a yes or a no.”

“Yes,” Quentin gasped, “Oh my god yes fuck—” Eliot reached forward and got a hand around him, stroked fast, never stopping pounding into him. “Fuck can I can I oh fuck—”

“Yeah, come,” Penny said, at that same time as Eliot hissed “ _Yes_ ,” and Quentin screamed and came and kept on coming, thick white streaks across his stomach, shaking apart in Penny’s arms. Eliot’s rhythm faltered again, his strokes getting short and jerky and Penny watched as his mouth opened and he choked out a moan, burying himself all the way into Quentin, abs twitching wildly as he came.

There was a long moment where nobody said anything, the only sounds in the room little whimpers from Quentin as his body shuddered its way down from a monumental orgasm and Eliot’s open-mouthed panting with his head resting sideways against Quentin’s shin. Penny took the opportunity to be silently smug about how fucking great an idea this had been.

Eliot eased out carefully and rubbed a hand over Quentin’s reddened ass cheeks, gently stroking over his well-used hole. Quentin shuddered, eyes still closed. Eliot stared down at where their bodies had been joined, swiping a finger through the trail of come now leaking out of Quentin.

“You were such a good boy for us,” he said softly, voice ragged. And he leaned in and kissed Quentin, sweet and comforting.

Penny froze for a second — somehow, in their discussion, he’d forgotten to tell Eliot that they didn’t usually kiss. If they were trying to stay anonymous— but Quentin made a sound like he was melting, leaned up into it, his lips parting under Eliot’s tongue. Penny’s heart started beating again. This was fine. No freaking out. Everything was still fine. He slowly released his grip on Quentin’s legs until his lower half was laid out flat, his upper body arched up to press his chest to Eliot’s as they kissed slowly, languorously.

Eliot pulled back, and Penny glanced away from his face, feeling like whatever he was seeing there wasn’t really something he was meant to see. “Let’s clean you up,” Eliot said, sounding much more put together than Penny would have expected. “Get some water in you, get you back in one piece.”

“That’s gonna take more than water,” Quentin mumbled, his swollen mouth twitching into a grin.

“Water’s a start, though,” Penny said as Eliot did a cleaning spell, vanishing the mess on Quentin’s stomach. He helped Quentin sit up, got out from behind him once he was sure Quentin wasn’t going to fall.

Eliot moved surprisingly efficiently for someone who had just fucked the shit out of his not-so-secret crush, rearranging pillows under Quentin’s head, finding the Gatorade Penny had left on the desk and getting it into Quentin’s hands, chivvying him until he started to drink. Penny got a washcloth for each of them from the bathroom, wiped Quentin down first and then himself, covered Quentin with soft blankets. As he finished tossing their used washcloths into the sink to deal with later, he saw Quentin’s eyes tracking his motions, considering, not all the way back to normal but much less hazy than before.

“Ready to take the spell off?” he asked, coming back to the bed.

Quentin’s face contorted. “In a sec,” he said. “Can you—” He took a deep breath, let it out as a sigh. “I need some cuddles. And. Um.”

“We can take it off when we’re already in place for that,” Penny said, picking up on his concern. Eliot got it too. He’d slipped back into his underwear, soft maroon boxer-briefs, and he slid under the blankets on one side of Quentin, gently touching Quentin’s shoulder to let him know he was coming. Quentin’s reaction was immediate and automatic: he turned towards Eliot, curling into him, pressing his face against Eliot’s shoulder.

Penny grabbed the spellbook and crawled in to spoon Quentin from the other side, sliding an arm around his waist before he realized he’d actually need both hands to cast. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Quentin’s head — hey, if that’s what they were doing tonight, he could get into it — and opened to the marked page.

Eliot got his hands into position, then paused, looking panicked. Penny raised an eyebrow at him. Eliot gestured fitfully from himself, to Quentin, to Penny, and shrugged.

Penny somehow figured out his lovestruck idiot sign language and nodded. “Roll over,” he told Quentin, tugging on his arm. Quentin went happily, tucking his face into Penny’s chest instead of Eliot’s. 

The counterspell made that same buzzing noise, and then at the last tut the noise vanished, leaving Penny feeling kind of like his ears had just popped after a plane ride. Quentin shivered, and blinked, and looked up at Penny’s face.

“Hi,” he said, grinning. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penny rolled his eyes. “Dork,” he said, and pulled Quentin tight against him. Eliot shifted a little nervously, and Penny gave him a look until he scooted in, wrapping an arm around Quentin’s waist, fitting their bodies together. There was a split-second where Quentin tensed, and Penny felt his heartbeat pick up where they were pressed close together — then he sighed, relaxed into it, and let Eliot hold him.

Penny let himself settle into contentment. “Debrief time,” he said. “Spell worked. Sex was great. Quentin?”

“Yeah and yeah,” Quentin said. “Really— just. Really great. Holy fuck. Oh my god.”

“Mm.”

“That’s your guys’ debrief?” Eliot asked skeptically.

“We’re not exactly formal.” Penny held Quentin as Quentin snuggled forward into him. “You’re welcome to say more if you want. Your turn.”

“Okay,” Eliot said. “The scene generally worked well for me. I liked having you tied up when I arrived, I liked the dirty talk and the little bit of impact play. The sex was—” his voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat to recover. “The sex was extremely good. I liked switching the focus for a moment and playing with you, Penny, it was an interesting break.”

“God that was hot,” Quentin sighed, his breath warm over Penny’s skin. “Even though neither of you looked familiar. You were still hot.”

“Yeah, how’d that work out? Penny asked. “Could you forget that we were people you know, get into the fantasy?”

“After a few minutes, yeah. There was like, a little bit of awareness there, that I had planned a scene with you two, but you got me out of my head pretty fast so I wasn’t focusing on it.” Quentin paused for a moment, clearly weighing whether to add something else. “The only moment I remembered— I mean, unless you did some other spells we didn’t talk about, um.” He buried his face in the crook of Penny’s neck, sighed, then pulled back to talk unimpeded. “I’m pretty sure I realized it had to be you, El, when you first— when I was going down on you. But I um. Forgot, after that, since. You know.”

“Since you were busy gagging on his massive dick?” Penny prompted. 

“Yes,” Quentin grumbled, sounding equal parts embarrassed and annoyed at Penny saying it outright like that.

“We gotta be able to say it, or this wasn’t a successful scene,” Penny said.

“Agreed,” Eliot said. “Although the spell does make that difficult. Quentin can’t say specifically what he liked, since he didn’t know who did what.”

“That was the point, though,” Quentin said, “and I loved it. It was like, it was exactly what I was hoping for, with this fantasy. I still knew what was _happening,_ even if I can’t say for sure who it was. And it was, it was all good. No notes.”

“Only one from me is, I wasn’t a huge fan of you flipping your shit for an hour before we got started,” Penny said, “but I get why you did. We should just find a way to calm you down faster if it starts happening again.”

“Yeah,” Quentin muttered ruefully. “That’d be good.”

There was a lull, as Quentin sighed and relaxed into the blankets, before Penny prompted: “Eliot? Things that could’ve been better? Since we’re doing the full on textbook debrief thing.”

Eliot thought for a long moment. “I don’t know that I’d try this particular spell a second time,” he said finally. “This was a good scene, I enjoyed it, but I think—” Penny could hear him swallow hard. Quentin was staring straight ahead, his jaw tense, eyes fixed on a point past Penny’s neck. “I know we all went into this with the understanding that this might be a one-time occurrence, and I absolutely respect that, but if you two wanted to invite me in again— I’d be happy to join, but I’d want you to know it was me.”

Quentin let out a huge sigh and let his head fall back, resting the back of his head against Eliot’s chin. His eyes were closed. “That would be— good,” he said finally. “Yeah.”

Penny felt the weirdest surge of affection for these two absolute disasters. He’d never seen himself as a fucking matchmaker, but— maybe he had a knack for it? Or maybe these guys were absolutely ready to fuck at the slightest provocation. Maybe a little of column A, little of column B, who knew. “I think we can make that happen."


End file.
